


The Luck of the Law

by queenofkadara, Schoute



Series: The Piperford Chronicles: Piper Lavellan & Cullen Rutherford [1]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender AU, Cullen is a lawyer, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Lavellan is a bartender, Modern AU, Modern Era, lawyer AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-11-07 19:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 64,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofkadara/pseuds/queenofkadara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schoute/pseuds/Schoute
Summary: Piper Lavellan eyed the handsome blond newcomer with interest. It wasn’t unusual for well-to-do white-collar types to come to the Hanged Man, but she hadn’t seen this particular guy before.He placed one strong hand on the bar and nodded politely. “Excuse me. I’m looking for-”“A blowjob?” Piper asked.His cheeks instantly turned a deep, charming pink, and Piper grinned. “The shot, I mean,” she teased, and she held up a shotglass.A nervous smile pulled at the corner of his scarred lip, and Piper laughed and extended her hand. “I’m Piper,” she said.His bashful smile widened, and he took her outstretched hand. “I’m Cullen,” he said.His handshake was strong and gentle at the same time, and Piper smiled at his still-flushed cheeks.Must be my lucky day,she thought.***********************Also known as: modern bartender AU where Piper Lavellan is a bartender, and Cullen is a good-guy lawyer who steals her precious heart. This is an accompaniment fic to the FenHawke ficDamned Spot,which takes place in the same universe.





	1. Luck (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schoute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schoute/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piper Lavellan and this modern AU Cullen belong to [Schoute on Tumblr,](https://schoute.tumblr.com/) who draws VERY beautiful art of Cullen and Piper Lavellan. This prologue was co-written by her, and is entirely her beautiful, brutal brainchild. xoxoxo

Piper stared blearily at the swirling blood in the sink.

Another drop of blood joined the sanguine vortex as it spiralled down the drain. Piper pressed the damp paper towel to the bloody mess of her eyebrow and lifted her gaze to the mirror. 

_Fucking perfect,_ she thought. The gash that bisected her left eyebrow was a nice counterpoint to the cut that split the right side of her lip. And then there was the bloody nose, which was nicely complemented by the dark circles under her eyes. 

She heaved a sigh and leaned heavily against the sink. How could she have been so naive? She stared intently at her reflection until she’d memorized every bloody bruise. 

_Well, I won’t be making this fucking mistake again,_ she thought bitterly. Her now-marred face would be a good reminder of this. 

*******************

The problem was that it had all started so well. Piper had met Maara, Duncan, and Peronn a few months ago at an underground show in Ansburg that she’d heard about in her travels, and they’d immediately hit it off. Making friends at shows was always easy, music being the great unifier, but there had been something especially inviting about these three.

Especially about Peronn. He was the definition of charm from the moment they bumped into each other at the bar. 

He leaned in close and pressed his arm against hers. “What’s a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?” he yelled over the music. 

She smirked at him. “Did you seriously just quote _Deadpool_ at me?”

He raised his eyebrows appreciatively and leaned his elbow on the bar. “A girl who knows _Deadpool_ well enough to recognize quotes. I knew I liked you.” 

A warm feeling bloomed in her belly, and Piper laughed and dropped her eyes. This guy was handsome, and it had been a while since her last one-night stand. 

She coyly lifted her gaze back to his face. “So. What other lines have you got for me?” she asked. 

He gave her a roguish half-smile. “Lines? Me? I would never. But _you’ve_ got some nice lines.” He reached out and ran his thumb along her tattooed cheekbone. “I like your vallaslin,” he shouted. 

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Are you Dalish?” she asked. She’d assumed he wasn’t, since his elven face was bare. 

Sure enough, he shook his head. “Nah. City-bred and born. But my gran was Dalish. Is Dalish, I guess. But you wear your blood writing better than her.”

Piper wrinkled her nose. “Did you just compliment me and insult your gran in the same breath?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “All right, you’ve got me. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.” 

Piper giggled, then pushed back the mass of her silvery hair. “All right. I never say no to a drink.”

And she didn’t, not for the rest of the night. Peronn eventually led her back to the table he was sharing with Maara and her boyfriend Duncan, and he kept the drinks flowing all night, gallantly ignoring Piper’s pleading attempts to pay him back. 

At some point during the night, Piper became relaxed enough to give up the attempts. “Ahh, I should just thank you and shut the fuck up,” she yelled to Peronn as she leaned into his shoulder. “I’m trying to save up for a bike. Haven’t really got the money to spare for drinks anyway.”

“A bike?” Maara asked. “Like… a bicycle-bike? Because those are super easy to jack, you know.” 

Duncan _tsk_ ed and pinched her arm, and Piper snorted with laughter. “No no, a motorcycle. A Kawasaki ZX-10R, to be exact.” She sighed dreamily as Peronn slid his arm around her waist. “I’ve almost got enough money for it. I just need a couple thousand more. I’d rather have a bike than a place to live, you know? Rent is the worst. It’s like throwing your money in the garbage. Give me a bike and I’ll make my home anywhere.”

“Wait,” Peronn yelled. “You don’t have a place to stay?”

Piper shook her head. “I’m a nomad,” she yelled back. “I float along on the wind. I’m like a dandelion seed.” She sipped her whiskey. In truth, the couchsurfing lifestyle was starting to wear on her. She’d loved it at first, when she’d first left her clan after her father had died. Back when she’d wanted nothing more than to be alone and away from the whole Dalish respect-the-gods bullshit. But… well, being alone all the time and spending every night in a different place was maybe a little bit more overrated than Piper was letting on.

“Stay with us!” Maara said.

Piper looked up from her drink. “What?”

Maara’s pretty face was open and friendly. “You can stay with us,” she repeated. “We’ve got a really comfortable couch.” 

“Or a really comfortable futon, if you don’t mind… sharing,” Peronn added. 

Piper looked at him. His smile was broad and his baby-blue eyes were warm, and a little leap of anticipation hopped in her belly. 

She looked at Maara again. “Are you sure? I mean, you don’t even know me…” Her gaze flicked over to Duncan. He was frowning slightly, and the last thing Piper wanted was to be an imposition. 

“We’re sure,” Maara said. She looked up at Duncan. “Right, D?”

Duncan shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” He glanced at Peronn. 

Peronn ran his hand along Piper’s back. “Good,” he said. Then he leaned in close to her ear. “Want another drink? Or would you rather go home?”

She shivered happily at the brush of his lips, and at the word _home_. It had been so long since she felt like she’d had one. Not that she was assuming Peronn’s apartment would become her home or anything. “Whatever you want,” she shouted. 

Peronn smiled, and Piper felt it against her skin. Then he straightened and held out his hand. “Come on, Pip,” he yelled. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

As it turned out, the grand tour started and ended with Peronn’s futon - not that Piper was at all upset about this. The surprising part was that the whole arrangement ended up lasting longer than the one night. To Piper’s intense gratitude, Peronn and the others insisted she stay with them rent-free for as long as she wanted to, and Piper didn’t have enough pride to say no. After all, who was she to turn down a place to stay, and friends who were so kind as to invite her to stay indefinitely?

After over a year of making her own solitary way across the continent, Piper was enjoying the novelty of settling into a steady routine. What had started as a casual crash with friends had become a real home - the first she’d had since leaving her clan. And what had started as a casual hook-up had turned into a real relationship: the first she’d ever really had.

The living arrangements weren’t perfect; Maara and Duncan and Peronn had few belongings beyond their laptops and their basic furniture, so it wasn’t the coziest of apartments. Furthermore, Peronn’s futon was hilariously lumpy, and it took Piper threatening to buy him a bed before he finally stepped up and bought one for himself - a second-hand one, to be sure, but a bed was a bed, and they made very good use of it.

The constant trickle of visitors that Peronn and Maara and Duncan got was strange as well. All kinds of people traipsed in and out at all hours of the day and night. They never seemed to stay for more than a drink or a chat, and though they were mostly friendly, even Piper - with her chatty nature - wasn’t able to learn much more about them than their names or how her roommates knew them: a friend from the gym, a girl Duncan met at the library, a friend’s cousin who was new in town. 

But Piper didn’t mind. The rotating parade of company was interesting, and her friends were a lot of fun. And importantly, with a stable place to stay, she was making decent money. She’d quickly found a job working as a courier for a local restaurant, and within a couple of months she’d gotten a raise. She was only a few paychecks away from getting that dreamy Kawasaki that she’d been eyeing for years - a dream that finally seemed attainable. Sure, it would clear out all of her savings, but it would be paid in full and it would be _hers._

_I make my own luck,_ Piper always liked to say. And finally, after a solid year of meandering around Thedas and scraping together cash by skipping meals and crashing on couches, it looked like Piper’s luck was finally turning around. 

***********************

Piper drummed her fingers impatiently on the bank counter. The teller had stepped into the back to get more envelopes, and she knew she shouldn’t be acting so antsy; the teller was being more than helpful, and Piper had already waited for more than two weeks for her banking forms to get processed so she could take out the thirty grand she needed. But now that she was here, and her Kawasaki was so close she could almost taste it, she could barely contain her rapidly fraying patience.

Peronn gave her arm a squeeze. “Easy there, Pip. The bike will still be there tomorrow.”

Piper wrinkled her nose and nudged him with her elbow. “I know, I know. But can you blame a girl for being excited? Besides,” she said, “I already have to wait a whole night before I can go and get my bike. A whole _night!_ I’m already raring to go, it’s not fair…” She stomped her leather-booted feet on the floor and pouted at Peronn. 

He chuckled and slung his arm around her neck. “Ah, don’t worry. We’ll get you good and drunk at Chora’s Den, and the night’ll fly by, and next thing you know, you’ll be picking up your bike. You’ll probably be too hungover to ride it home, though.” He snickered. 

Piper punched him playfully in the belly. “Real helpful, Per. Thanks.” 

At long last, the bank teller came out from the back, and Piper watched in high anticipation as she carefully packed her money into an envelope. At long last, the teller slid the envelope across the counter.

“All right, love, there you are,” the teller said. She gave Piper a stern and motherly look. “Be careful, now. It’s a dangerous road out there, you hear?” 

Peronn snorted softly; Piper hadn’t been able to resist blurting her motorcycle aspirations to the teller when they’d arrived.

Piper ignored him and nodded eagerly. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry,” she chirped. With slightly trembling hands, she took the precious packet from the smiling teller. 

She and Peronn left the bank, and Peronn gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, Pip,” he announced. “You’re more than halfway there.”

She grinned and happily wrapped her arm around his waist. He was right. Collecting this much cash had been the hardest part. In less than twelve hours, she’d have the one thing she’d most wanted ever since her father had died: a way to fly across the world like the curious adventurer her father had always encouraged her to be. 

At that moment, her phone chirped in her pocket, and she pulled it out to find a text from Maara. 

_7:21pm - where tf r u guys???_  
_7:21pm - hurry up and get here im so excited for u!!_  
_7:21pm - SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS ERYBODY_

Piper snorted with laughter. With a surge of excited happiness, she darted around behind Peronn and jumped onto his back. 

He laughed as he hooked his arms around her legs, and Piper wrapped her arms around her neck. “Come on,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll have to be my ride until I get my bike! Let’s go!” 

Peronn snickered dirtily. “You can ride me anytime, Pip. Now let’s get you fucked up.”

********************

Duncan raised his shot glass. “Cheers to Piper, who is finally upgrading to a real vehicle like an adult and can shove that bike bell right up her-”

“Hey, don’t be a dickhead!” Maara gave Duncan’s arm a slap, and the rest of their table burst into raucous laughter. 

Piper raised her glass as well. “Cheers to good friends and shitty well whiskey!” she said cheerfully, then elbowed Maara. “You guys couldn’t even spring top shelf for me?”

Maara laughed, then leaned in close to Piper’s pointed ear. “You’re the one with all the cash, big spender,” she purred, then gave Piper a playful jab. 

Piper chuckled and downed the shot, then hissed a breath through her teeth as Duncan waved to the waitress for another round. “Tastes fucking terrible, you assholes.”

Another eruption of laughter rose from their table, and Piper grinned as she basked in the perfection of the moment. As was always the case with their little foursome, one drink turned into three, and three swiftly multiplied into many more. It wasn’t long before Piper was properly sauced. Maara had insisted that this was by design, as this would be Piper’s last chance to get irresponsibly smashed before she’d have to drive herself home from the bars.

She wasn’t certain how much she’d had to drink or how long they’d been at Chora’s Den by the time she was stumbling into the alley behind the bar. It had started to rain, and Piper fumbled clumsily with her hood, struggling to get her inebriated fingers to cooperate. 

She finally pulled her hood up over her unruly hair, and she smiled in triumph as her fumbling fingers lit a cigarette. She took a deep, satisfied drag and released it into the damp nighttime air, then briefly lifted her face to enjoy the rain on her heated cheeks. 

A moment later, she heard the bar’s back door swinging open, and the loud sounds of laughter and music spilled out before the door slammed shut again. Piper smiled fuzzily as she took another pull of her cigarette. It was probably Peronn; he’d told her he would be right behind her. 

She turned toward the door. “Hey you-”

The left side of her face collided with a fist. A starburst of white-hot pain burst across her vision, and the twin devils of alcohol and agony had her on the asphalt in a second. 

Piper collapsed on her hands and knees, gasping in shock as the unforgiving ground scraped against her palms. Already she could feel a burn of pain rising from her battered browbone. Her ears were ringing, and everything was spinning, and that cheap-as-shit alcohol they’d been guzzling was absolutely no help.

“Wh-whathefuck…” she slurred. She tried shakily to push herself upright, and was met with a foot to her gut. 

The air left her lungs with an ugly grunt, and she collapsed onto her shoulder and curled instinctively into a ball.

The contents of her stomach were curdling at the back of her throat. Through the haze of pain and disbelief, she heard a voice - a horribly familiar voice. 

“Just grab the cash, phone, and her keys.”

_Peronn?_ No. There was no fucking way. He wouldn’t, not Peronn - they shared a bed together, he… he loved her. He’d even almost told her so one time. He wouldn’t. She was drunk, she was hearing things… 

Piper dared to open her eyes, vaguely noting that the left one wouldn't quite open all the way.

She blinked hard and tried to take in the scene before her. Peronn and Maara were huddled together talking in low, urgent voices, and Duncan was crouching down beside her and reaching inside her jacket.

She tried to tuck her arm in closer to protect the precious envelope in her inside pocket. “Th’fuck are you doing?” she complained. “Some kind of sick fucking joke?” 

She lamely tried to bat Duncan’s hand away, and was swiftly met with another fist to the face. 

Piper recoiled at the impact. A warm wash of blood trickled over her upper lip, which was burning with the same kind of agony that had lit her left browbone on fire.

She choked out a weak little sob and feebly curled her arms over her head. Duncan pried the keys and phone from her pocket, and Piper whimpered in protest as he pulled her hard-won cash from her inner pocket. 

_Give it back,_ she thought, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat was aching, and her head was pounding, and through the rising wave of realization - _they fucked me over_ \- Peronn’s smooth voice reached her ringing ears.

“No hard feelings, Pip.”

A swell of tears thickened at the back of her throat. The once-sweet term of endearment stung worse than the beating. 

She struggled to sit upright. Maara and Duncan were already moving off, and Piper thought she could hear Maara saying something snide about ‘fucking Dalish bumpkins’, but she could barely take it in. Her dazed eyes drifted over Peronn’s dirty Converse sneakers, then slowly up his lanky body to his pitying smirk. 

“Why?” she croaked. Her voice sounded so small in her ears. She sounded so weak - fuck, she _was_ so weak to ask - but she had to know.

He slowly crouched beside her. Despite the beating he’d clearly orchestrated, her stupid, drunken heart couldn’t help a little hopeful jolt. 

Peronn ran his thumb along her swollen left cheek, then gave it a light slap, and Piper flinched at the strike. He was being so fucking _cruel_. Those long-fingered hands of his, hands that had once held her so tenderly… they felt like sandpaper on her skin.

Peronn casually rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head. “We got into a little trouble. You know how it is. So thanks for the helping hand, yeah?”

Piper’s sodden mind was reeling. What kind of trouble? Was it… did it have to do with the people who were always coming through the apartment? Now that Piper thought about it, there were a lot of whispered, furtive conversations… 

_Gods, I’m such a fucking idiot._ She should have guessed. She’d always known her friends - _hah, friends_ \- toed the line of the law, but… 

But why didn’t they just ask for help? All they’d had to do was _ask._ All this for some fucking money that she would have been more than happy to lend them if they needed it. Had this been a setup from day one? 

_That_ thought was the one that hurt the most. The thought that all of this - the months she’d spent with them, that she’d spent with _him_ , twisted together on that fucking futon of his - 

Peronn rose to his feet and started to walk away, and Piper just… watched him go. Her usual sharp tongue had no witty remark, no snide comment; she couldn’t even form a complete sentence at the back of her muddled mind. 

Just before he left the alley, Peronn glanced over his shoulder at her one last time. “Better luck next time, kid,” he said. Then he was gone. 

_Luck._ Fucking luck. Of course he had to throw her own stupid little motto back at her. At that thought, her swollen face crumpled with misery and not a little pain. 

Her tears were scalding, adding further to the discomfort of her split and bloodied lip. Piper let her heavy head hang low, tears dripping from the tip of her nose and joining with the rain that was slowly soaking through her hood. 

She was back to square one. No, worse than square one. When she’d left her clan, she hadn’t had any money or family, but at least her face was intact. And at least… fuck, at least she’d been able to trust people. What was she supposed to do now? Just assume everyone she met was going to take her shit and leave her alone and beaten on the street? 

An ugly little sob escaped her throat. Piper scowled at herself for being so dramatic, then winced in pain as the scowl split her eyebrow even further, causing a fresh trickle of blood to leak down the side of her face. 

She took a deep breath, then spat a gobbet of bloody phlegm onto the wet asphalt. With effort, she managed to get her feet under her, then carefully lifted her aching body up until she was standing again. 

She stumbled slightly as her spinning head tried to right itself. “Fuck,” she groaned. Her solar plexus felt bruised from Duncan’s kick, and there was gravel embedded in the scratches in her palms, and her face felt like it was on fire. And still she knew this was only the start of it. She was still drunk, still slightly numb from the booze, and she could only imagine the agony that would be coming for her later when the whiskey wore off.

She slowly made her way toward the back door of the Chora’s Den and leaned heavily against the wall. She reached inside her jacket and pulled out her smokes - she supposed she was lucky that Duncan had let her keep those, at least - then pulled out a cigarette and her lighter.

She carefully lit the cigarette with trembling hands, then took a long drag from the uninjured corner of her mouth. Ten seconds later, the cigarette was smoked down to the butt, and Piper dropped it on the ground and watched silently as the tiny spark fizzled out into a pitiful little stream of smoke. 

She sighed heavily and leaned her aching head against the wall. Peronn and the others were probably packed up and long gone by now. It’s not like they owned much stuff to begin with. That was probably why Peronn had made her spend the whole day out with him. This was definitely why Maara had insisted that they come straight here from the bank instead of giving Piper time to go home and change.

_I fucked up._ It was the only conclusion Piper had. She’d trusted total strangers, taken out all her cash, and gone and gotten blind drunk with thirty thousand bucks in her pocket. Of course it was her fault. And there was no point going to the police. She had no proof of what they’d done. Besides, the police in this city weren’t super trusting of the Dalish.

Piper ran a hand over her soaking hood. What now? There was nothing left for her in Ansburg. No friends, no home, no money… she had her job, but that wasn’t much good without a place to stay. 

She sighed. Looked like it was back to the nomadic lifestyle. She could probably talk her boss into cutting her final check early; that would be enough to get her a bus ticket and a few necessary supplies before heading out to…

Well, that was the question. Where _was_ she going to go? Somewhere new, for sure; Piper wasn’t much of one for retracing her steps, especially since her steps thus far had led to this. 

Where to next, then? This was the question she pondered as she pulled open the back door of Chora’s Den and dragged herself to the restroom. It was the question she thought about as she tossed her bloody wad of paper towels into the trash, then pulled open the restroom door and headed down the short hall toward the main room of the bar. 

As she weaved her way along the hall, her inebriated eyes fell on a flyer tacked to the announcement board: a bright green flyer for a band called Blightfall, who were playing Kirkwall in three days’ time. 

_Blightfall._ Piper had never heard of them. That was good. No memories of Peronn to tack the music onto. And she’d never been to Kirkwall before. 

She smirked to herself. She’d heard Kirkwall was a right shithole this time of year, but really, it couldn’t be worse than here.

She pulled down the flyer and stuffed it in the back pocket of her jeans, then meandered back into the main room. The music was too loud and the laughter too bright for her pounding head, but she took a seat at the bar anyway. 

The bartender glanced at her in passing, then did a double-take at her swollen face. Then, as bartenders were sometimes wont to do, he chose not to ask any questions. 

He leaned his palms on the bar and tilted his head. “What can I get you?”

Piper ruefully twisted her lips until it hurt. She sheepishly shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and was about to tell him she hadn’t any money for a drink, but before she could speak, her fingers found a soft scrap of paper in the depths of her pocket.

She pulled it out. It was a ten-dollar bill. 

_That’s lucky,_ she thought. And despite herself, despite the shitshow of the night she’d just had and the shitshow that was sure to meet her in the ugly light of day, Piper smiled. 

She slid the bill across the bar. “Whiskey, neat,” she said. 

The bartender nodded and turned away to fetch her drink, and Piper sat back with a sigh. 

_I make my own luck,_ she thought. Tonight, that luck was a ten-dollar bill.

Tomorrow, Kirkwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Schoute on Tumblr](https://schoute.tumblr.com/) for some beautiful Piper/Lavellan art! 
> 
> I am [Pikapeppa on Tumblr,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) if you desire more writing and Dragon Age shenanigans. xoxo


	2. New Start

Piper hefted her backpack higher onto her shoulder as she trudged toward the pub. Three buses and two days of travel had finally brought her to Kirkwall.

It was past dinnertime and past dark, and Piper was exhausted. All she’d eaten in the past two days was the leftovers that her boss had insisted she take from the restaurant when she’d gone in to plead for her last paycheque, but the leftovers were long gone by last night, and Piper was so hungry it felt like her stomach was sticking to her spine. She hadn’t had a cigarette since the night Peronn had stolen her money, and her head was a constant throbbing ache. Peronn was the one who’d started her smoking, and the thought of a cigarette touching her lips made her want to retch, but the withdrawal wasn’t making her abstinence any easier. 

She covered her mouth to hide a yawn as she locked her bike up near the pub. Really, she shouldn’t be going to a pub at all; her first concern should be finding a place to stay. But she was at a loss as to where exactly to go. She only had a few hundred bucks to her name, and she’d have to stretch that for at least a few days in Kirkwall until she found a job. The cheapest hostel in this city was a place called Imshael’s Haven in a part of the city called Darktown, but it had a one-star rating on Google, and multiple people had left reviews saying their shit had been stolen while staying there. There were a couple of other hostels in a slightly more expensive neighbourhood called Lowtown, but Piper balked at the thought of losing half of her remaining funds for a few nights in a bed. 

But what was her alternative? In the past, she’d happily crashed on the couch of anyone who’d offered. But that was before her so-called friends had beaten her up and taken all her money after making her think she was one of them - that she was a member of the group, and that she was loved… 

She shunted the thought of Peronn’s baby blue eyes to the back of her mind and pushed back her hood as she neared the pub. The Hanged Man, it was called; she’d heard a few people talking about this place as she’d gotten off the bus, and they said it had a good reputation for cheap but tasty appetizers. If Piper was totally honest, she would love a drink too, but it was probably a bad idea. She should be saving her money, and the last thing she needed in her pitifully empty stomach was booze. 

Especially given what had happened the last time she’d gotten drunk.

Peronn’s smiling face intruded into her thoughts once more: his handsome, vile, lying face. Piper shivered and hunched her shoulders, then pushed open the door to the Hanged Man.

A lively wave of conversation met her ears, carried by the gritty sound of a grunge rock song that Piper vaguely remembered from the 90s. The pub was dark and cozy, with a low ceiling and red walls decorated with mug shots of famous criminals from all around Thedas. The bar was along the left-hand wall, manned by a pretty woman around Piper’s age with short dark hair, and at the back of the pub, there was a small stage with a karaoke machine.

_Karaoke?_ Piper thought with a flash of amusement. No one had mentioned that. Not that she would ever do karaoke - she couldn’t sing to save her life - but it was funny that they offered it here. 

She made her to way to the bar, then leaned against it to wait for the bartender’s attention. A minute later, the bartender sashayed over with a smile. 

“Hey there,” the bartender said. “You look like you need a drink.” Her grin was wide and cheeky, but to Piper’s pleasant surprise, the bartender’s gaze didn’t linger too long on Piper’s obvious facial wounds. 

Despite her exhaustion, Piper found herself smiling in response. She scoffed and slumped her elbows on the bar. “What gives you that idea?” she drawled. She fully expected the bartender to comment on her face; the livid scabs and bruises were the most noticeable thing about her face right now, after all. 

But the bartender surprised her again by not mentioning her face at all. Instead, she jerked her head at the speaker in the corner. “This song,” she said. “It makes _me_ want to drink. I fucking hate it.”

Piper listened a bit more carefully, then snorted a laugh. “You’re right. I hate this song too. I could do with something more upbeat.”

“Right?” the bartender said enthusiastically. “Something fun to dance to.” She shimmied her shoulders a bit. 

“Yeah!” Piper laughed. “Something like-” 

She broke off as the next song started. A slow grin lifted her wounded lips as she recognized the distinctive 80s tones, and she and the bartender made eye contact. 

“Fuck yeah, the Safety Dance!” they said at the same time. 

Piper gaped at the bartender, who stared back at her with wide eyes, and then they both burst into laughter. Piper laughed and laughed until her diaphragm started to hurt. The bartender’s bubbly energy was infectious, and the past two days had been so awful that Piper felt like she hadn’t smiled in ages, and it just felt so _good_ to find something funny again, even if it was the stupidest thing in the world. 

She finally wiped her eyes, and the bartender chuckled as she held out her hand. “I’m Rynne,” she said. “But you can call me Hawke. Everyone does.” 

Piper shook her hand. “I’m Piper,” she said. 

Hawke grinned, then released her hand. “What can I get for you, Piper?” 

“Um, I heard you guys have food,” Piper said. “Do I order at the bar, or…?”

Hawke nodded. “Yeah, or you can take a seat at a table and a waitress will come help you out. Whatever you like.”

Piper hesitated. She could go sit at a table; it would probably be more comfortable than sitting at the bar, and her back was still hurting from the shitty bus seats. But Hawke’s face was so open and friendly, and as pitiful as it sounded, Piper could use a friendly face after the terrible few days she’d just had. 

She shifted onto one of the bar stools. “I, uh, I’ll sit here, if that’s okay…?”

“Of course!” Hawke said. “I’ll never say no to a pretty girl sitting at my bar.” She winked at Piper and handed her a menu. “You can help me pick what song should play next. I mean, I only get a little bit of choice - the boss usually picks a playlist and we stick with that, but I’m allowed to choose two songs per hour.” She chuckled as she pulled out two shot glasses and placed them on the bar. “I usually make sure I pick songs that will bug the shit out of him.” She turned around and pulled a bottle of tequila from the lower shelf behind the bar. 

Piper smirked as Hawke poured the shots. “I bet your boss loves you for that.”

“Oh, he does,” Hawke assured her cheerfully. “Everyone loves me. I’m fantastic, can’t you tell?” Then she pushed one shot glass in Piper’s direction. 

“Cheers,” Hawke said. “It’s on me.” 

Piper’s eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she protested. “No, that’s way too nice, you don’t have to-”

Hawke waved her hand dismissively. “Go on,” she coaxed, “go ahead. Consider it a ‘welcome to Kirkwall’ shot.” 

Piper released a soft exhale, then gave Hawke a rueful smile. “All right. Thanks a lot,” she said softly. She lifted the shot and clinked her tiny glass against Hawke’s before swallowing it down. 

The cheap tequila was a harsh but pleasant burn as it made its way down her throat. She hissed in a breath through her teeth, then looked at Hawke. “How’d you know I just got here?” she asked. 

Hawke shrugged as she briskly placed their glasses into the sink. “The backpack, the post-travel slumped posture, take your pick,” she said. “We also don’t see many Dalish elves here.” She cocked her head to the side. “Actually, I can’t think of any aside from my friend Merrill. She’s doing a kind of Dalish cultural exchange thing, though, and she’s going to the university part-time.” Her thoughtful gaze settled on Piper’s face. “I don’t get the sense that that’s why you’re here.”

Piper shrugged casually and dropped her eyes to the menu. “Nah, not me. I’m just travelling, you know, making my way across Thedas, seeing all the sights. You don’t see a whole lot when you just stick with your clan.” She kept her voice light and tried to pretend she was just a normal traveller who wasn’t standing on the precipice of total poverty.

“Sounds amazing,” Hawke said brightly. “Where were you last? Markham?” 

“No, I came from, uh. From Ansburg,” Piper said. She swallowed hard and flipped to the second page of the menu.

“Ansburg!” Hawke laughed. She seemed oblivious to Piper’s growing distress, for which Piper was thankful. “I heard that place is a shithole this time of year.”

Piper looked up with a sudden grin. “I was told the exact same thing about Kirkwall before I came here!” she exclaimed.

They both burst into laughter again, and Hawke playfully flicked Piper’s menu. “Kirkwall is way better than Ansburg. You’ll see if you decide to stay a while! Now hang tight for a minute,” she said, and she nodded to the middle of the bar, where a couple of customers were waiting. “I have to go and, you know, do my job for a second.” 

Piper snorted with amusement. “Sure,” she said, and Hawke bustled away. 

A few minutes later, Hawke returned and took Piper’s food order with brisk efficiency. The cheerful bartender drifted back and forth between Piper and the other patrons who stepped up to the bar, flirting and making conversation as she filled their orders and made change and swiped credit cards, and in between their friendly bouts of chat, Piper watched Hawke working with a wistful kind of envy. 

_I wish I could be a bartender,_ Piper thought suddenly. Maybe Hawke was just making it look easy, and it was probably a shitty job on busy nights, but it seemed like so much fun: chatting with people, pouring drinks and listening to music, and just helping people have a good time after a long day of work. Piper had never really thought about bartending before. She supposed it was partly that she’d never stayed in one place long enough to do it. But it wasn’t like she was qualified, either. She’d never tended bar before. 

At one point, while Piper was eating her sweet potato fries and Hawke was packing the dishwasher, Piper asked about her name. “So why do people call you ‘Hawk’?” she said. “Are you a birdwatcher?”

Hawke threw her head back and laughed. “No, you dumbass, it’s my last name,” she chortled. “But I should tell my brother you asked that. Then maybe he won’t be so pissy about not being the one that people call ‘Hawke’ around here.” 

Piper smirked and raised one eyebrow. “What have you got against birdwatching?” 

“Nothing,” Hawke said innocently. “Actually, I should start telling people we’re a family of birdwatchers. It would be a nicer thing to be known for than ‘the family with the sick father’.” She shot Piper a rueful smirk as she swiftly put the wine glasses away. 

Piper frowned. “‘Sick father’? Your dad is sick?”

“Yeah,” Hawke said. “He’s got cancer. Don’t worry about it,” she added, waving her hand casually before Piper could speak. “It’s… I mean, it’s not fine, but it’s… it is what it is. He’s getting treatment to make him more comfortable, so that’s good. My mom and brother aren’t dealing with it so well, but I mean, you can’t blame them, can you? It’s fucking cancer, after all.” She chuckled and gave Piper another rueful little smile. “Family, huh?”

Hawke’s smile was warm, but her eyes were sad, and a sudden, sharp pang of longing for her own late father speared Piper in the chest. She swallowed hard. “Yeah,” she said huskily. She took a hasty gulp of her water, then lowered her glass and returned to wolfing down her fries.

Hawke was quiet as she continued her tidying. When the dishwasher was empty, she leaned her elbows on the bar. “So. Now that we’ve got some food in you and you’ve heard my little sob story, are you going to tell me how you got those bruises?”

Piper lifted her eyes back to Hawke’s face. Her expression was still open and friendly, and very slightly expectant. 

Piper swallowed her mouthful of sweet potato and smirked. “Bar fight,” she cheerfully lied. “You should see the other guy. Actually, best that you can’t. The sight of him would make you barf.”

Hawke grinned. “You know, I could almost believe it. I bet you’re a scrappy little thing when you’re cornered, aren’t you?” 

Piper grinned. “Well shit, you already know me so well and I just got here.”

Hawke playfully fanned herself. “Why, thank you. Getting inside pretty Dalish girls’ heads is my special skill. Among other places.” She wiggled her eyebrows lasciviously. 

Piper scoffed in amusement and threw a fry at her. Hawke snickered, then started wiping down the bar while Piper returned to her food, but Piper had lost a little bit of her appetite. 

She knew Hawke didn’t believe her, and she was grateful that the friendly bartender wasn’t pushing any further. As the days since the Peronn incident had gone by, Piper had stopped feeling sorry for herself, and was starting to feel increasingly stupid instead.

It was just so fucking embarrassing. How naive did you have to be to withdraw thirty grand in cash from the bank, then go drinking? If it hadn’t been Peronn and Maara and Duncan who stole her money, it would have been someone else; Piper was convinced of this. Peronn was a liar and an asshole, sure, but Piper was an idiot - a stupid Dalish bumpkin, just as Maara had said - and she was just as much to blame. 

Given how foolish she’d been, she didn’t really want to talk about what had happened. Besides, if she told someone what had happened, it would mean admitting how naive she’d been, and that would make it all the easier for her to be taken advantage of again. 

And Piper _never_ wanted to be betrayed like that again. 

Hawke eventually floated back to the bar and refilled Piper’s water. “Listen,” she said, “I’m not going to pry, even though I’m dying for details. Just tell me this: should we go to the police? I’m friends with the police captain and her husband, and my brother is-”

Piper scoffed and waved her hand. “No no, of course not. I told you, it was a bar fight…”

She trailed off as Hawke gave her a skeptical look, then slumped on her stool and sighed. “I got beaten up in Ansburg,” she said. “So the Kirkwall police couldn’t do anything anyway.” She poked a cold fry in her garlic aioli and refused to look at Hawke.

Hawke was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Did you know the people who did it?”

Piper shrugged listlessly. “Sort of.” _Not as well as I thought I did, obviously,_ she thought, with a pang of resentment at herself. 

Hawke drummed her fingers on the bar, then reached over and plucked a sweet potato fry from Piper’s plate. “If you wanted to try and press charges, there’s this lawyer who helps people out. I don’t know him, but he’s kind of the notorious good guy in Kirkwall. Works for a big fancy firm during the day, helps out the little people who can’t afford a lawyer in his off time.” She shrugged and munched on the fry. “We could see if he could help you out.” 

Piper wrinkled her nose. “You can’t be serious.” 

Hawke swallowed her mouthful of sweet potato and raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

It was Piper’s turn to give Hawke a skeptical look. “Come on. A lawyer who just goes around helping people for no money? Nobody is that nice.”

After the words left her mouth, she belatedly realized how bitter she sounded, and she bit her tongue. But Hawke only laughed. “You know what, I thought the same thing. But I actually know someone that this goody-good lawyer helped. This kid Emile, who works at the best coffeeshop in town. His dad tried to get him imprisoned for possession of elfroot, and this Rutherford guy worked it out so he only got community service instead of jail time.”

Piper frowned, momentarily distracted. “Wait. Elfroot is illegal in Kirkwall?”

Hawke rolled her eyes. “Yeah. This city is so backwards in some ways. But my point is that this Cullen Rutherford guy is for real. He’s like Batman or something, but without the violence.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Or the mask and costume.” She waved her hand impatiently. “Whatever. What I’m trying to say is, maybe if you contact him about these assholes who beat you up…”

Piper shook her head. “No no, don’t worry about it. It was - I shouldn’t have - honestly, I just want to put it behind me.” She tried for a casual smile, though the topic of conversation was making her feel agitated. “It was basically a bar fight. I was asking for it, seriously. Don’t worry about it.” She bit another cold fry. “Besides,” she added around her mouthful of food, “I’ll get some badass scars from these hits. People will think I’m a pirate or something.”

Hawke’s narrow-eyed frown transformed into a smile, and she chuckled. “That is true. You’ll have some very sexy scars. I’m almost jealous.”

Piper relaxed as Hawke latched onto her attempt at levity. Then a man’s voice broke into their conversation.

“Hawke, bad news.” A dwarf in business-casual clothes - with the shirt amusingly half-unbuttoned - approached Hawke with a frown. “Sabine just gave notice. She’ll be gone in two weeks.” 

“Ah shit,” Hawke sighed. Then she shrugged. “It was just a matter of time. Her kid is such a fucking brat.” Then she turned to Piper. “Hey, are you looking for a job?”

Piper raised her eyebrows in surprise, and the dwarf cleared his throat loudly. “Hawke, remind me again. Who’s the person in charge of hiring here?”

Hawke turned a sunny smile on the dwarf. “Oh Varric, I’m just screening candidates for you. You should be thanking me!”

Varric - who was clearly Hawke’s boss - sighed and shook his head, then made eye contact with Piper. His eyebrows rose as his gaze drifted over her battered face. “You all right, kid?”

Piper sighed internally, but gave Varric a devil-may-care grin and leaned her elbows on the bar. “ _I’m_ great. You should see the other guy.”

“She’s very scrappy,” Hawke added cheerfully, and Piper shot her a quick grateful glance. 

Varric smirked. “A rowdy one, are you?” He gave Piper an appraising look, then shrugged affably. “Well, feel free to apply for the position. This place really needs a second full-time bartender.” He tipped her a quick salute, then sauntered away.

Piper opened her mouth to protest - she wasn’t a bartender, she couldn’t apply - but Hawke punched her arm playfully. “You’d better apply!” she said. “Sabine was good, but she was boring. I feel like you and I would have a shit ton of fun behind the bar.”

Piper eyed Hawke’s smiling face. Hawke was being so nice, and she seemed to really give a shit about what had happened to Piper, and it was all so… suspicious. 

Piper ducked her head and tugged on a strand of her wavy silver hair. “Why are you trying to help me out?” she asked. “You don’t even know me. I could really have beat someone up, for all you know.” 

Hawke shrugged and leaned her elbows on the bar. “I don’t know. You just seem like you could use the do-over.” She shrugged. “Shitty things happen to good people sometimes, and it sucks,” she said matter-of-factly. “Doesn’t mean everything has to be shitty forever, right? Or else what’s the point of living?”

Piper stared at her dumbly. Hawke was so… optimistic. And it wasn’t like Hawke’s life was great either, if her dad had cancer. Piper wistfully remembered feeling that optimistic. A mere three days ago, she’d been so hopeful, so happy, thinking her dreams were coming true… 

Her chest hurt. Her throat felt swollen. She swallowed hard, then laughed half-heartedly. “I guess.”

“Good,” Hawke said brightly. “Then you’ll apply for the job?”

Piper laughed again, then shrugged helplessly. “I don’t… I’m not a bartender, I’ve never tended bar before.” 

“Neither did I before I started working here,” Hawke reasoned. “You’ll pick it up in no time, I promise.”

Piper gazed at Hawke’s hopeful face, then finally laughed and shrugged. “Ah, what the hell. Sure, I’ll apply.”

Hawke snapped her fingers happily. “I knew you’d come to your senses,” she said. She reeled off Varric’s email so Piper could send him her resumé, then gestured at Piper’s empty plate. “You done with-”

“Thanks, Hawke,” Piper blurted. “I, uh… just… you know. Thanks.” She rubbed her nose awkwardly to try and ward off the stinging of her eyes. 

Hawke smiled slowly at her, then waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen my bar dancing. And believe me, I _love_ dancing on the bar.”

“So do I!” Piper said in surprise. “Like that routine in-”

“ _Coyote Ugly_?” Hawke finished excitedly, and Piper beamed at her, and then they both burst out laughing again. 

Hawke delicately wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. “Damn, I’m glad you left Ansburg. Why’d you decide to come to Kirkwall, anyway?”

“Oh,” Piper hiccuped. “Uh, I saw a poster for some band I’ve never heard of, doing a show here tomorrow night, so I thought I’d come check it out.”

Hawke nodded. “New band, new place, new start?”

Piper smiled. “Exactly.” 

Hawke smiled approvingly. “What’s the name of the band?” 

“Blightfall.”

“Oh!” Hawke straightened. “We’re going to that show - me and my friends, Merrill and Anders. I know the lead guitarist, so we’ll get to stand right at the front. Want to come with us?”

Piper stared at her in surprise. “How do you know everyone?” she asked incredulously. 

Hawke snorted a laugh. “What do you mean?”

Piper shrugged. “First it’s the police captain, then this Batman-lawyer guy-”

“No no, I don’t know him, I just know _about_ him,” Hawke interrupted. 

Piper shook her head impatiently. “And now it’s a member of this band I wanted to see tomorrow. You know everyone!”

Hawke lifted her shoulders and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. “What can I say, I’ve got a magnetic charm. Everyone flocks to me.”

Piper snickered. “You’re so full of shit.” 

Hawke threw her head back and laughed. “And you know _me_ so well already,” she quipped. She tilted her head quizzically. “So, how about it, Pipes? Want to come to Blightfall with us tomorrow?”

Piper eyed her cautiously. An invitation to a show with a new group of people - people she didn’t know and had no reason to trust, and who could so easily betray her… 

But it was just a concert. Going to a concert with a new acquaintance didn’t make her stupid or naive. 

Did it?

Piper took a deep breath. _New beginnings,_ she told herself. _I have to start somewhere._ It was as Hawke said, after all: if she couldn’t move past the shitty things that Peronn had done, what was the point?

She forcefully shoved the thought of Peronn aside and lifted her gaze to Hawke. “Sure,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I KNOW, STILL NO CULLEN, but we had to get Piper to Kirkwall somehow, right?? 
> 
> And yes, this was a shameless homage to Rynne and Piper’s friendship. Friends are everything. xoxoxo 
> 
> Cullen will appear soon, I promise… ;) 
> 
> All Piper are belong to [Schoute on Tumblr!](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) Follow her for some amazing Cullavellan (AND FENHAWKE) art!!


	3. Good

**Four months later…**

Police cars, a handful of milling police officers, and Leandra’s hysterical wailing in the kitchen: this was _not_ what Piper thought Malcolm Hawke’s death would be like. 

She squeezed Hawke’s cold fingers and listened with a dull kind of disbelief as the police officer continued speaking to Hawke in a calm, gentle voice. 

“I don’t see any clear evidence of you having done anything wrong, Hawke, but we can’t ignore your mother’s accusations. I’m very sorry,” Officer Donnic said. His bushy brown eyebrows were sympathetic. “Fortunately, we won’t need to bring you in to the station. There’s no need for you to be held in custody until the charges are officially laid.”

“Ah, too bad,” Hawke quipped. “Mother will be disappointed. Dead husband, shell-shocked son, allegedly murderous daughter - she almost had a perfect triumvirate of drama right under her roof. If I went to jail, it would be the cherry on the cake for her.” She laughed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. 

Piper squeezed her hand, and Donnic’s eyebrows creased even further. He sighed and gave Hawke a very apologetic look. “You’ll need to come in to the station tomorrow or the day after to start the arraignment process,” he said.

“What’s that mean?” Piper asked. 

“It’s the first step of the criminal charge process,” Donnic explained. “The judge will look at our reports and decide what Hawke will be charged with.”

“She shouldn’t be charged with anything!” Piper burst out. She’d been trying to hold her tongue since she got here, but… fuck, this was _such_ bullshit. “Hawke’s mom is a crazy bitch,” she snapped at Donnic. “You shouldn’t even be listening to her!”

Hawke laughed and slung her arm around Piper’s neck. “It’s okay, Pipes. Donnic is just doing his job.” She looked at Donnic. “Tell me what time, and I’ll be at the courthouse with bells on.” 

“We’ll give you a call,” Donnic said, then rose to his feet. He looked at Hawke sadly for another moment. “I am… very sorry for your loss,” he said softly. “I’ll tell Aveline immediately. She’ll want to send her condolences.” 

Hawke gave him a half-smile and a nod, and he walked away to speak to one of his colleagues. Then Hawke glanced toward the kitchen, where Leandra’s loud sobbing could still be heard. 

Piper scoffed in disgust. “She’s such a bitch. I know she’s your mom, but fuck it, Hawke-”

Hawke shook her head. “She’s grieving. It’s fine.”

“ _You’re_ grieving too, and you’re not going around accusing people of murder!” Piper hissed. “Your dad had cancer, for Mythal’s sake. He was going to pass sooner than later.” 

Hawke grimaced. “Actually, Pipes, it… it doesn’t seem like it was the cancer that killed him.”

Piper frowned. “What do you mean?”

Hawke tugged her silver earrings. “It… he had a lot of lyrium on stock. It might have been involved.”

Piper stared at her best friend with growing surprise. “He… what are you saying? He overdosed-?”

A clattering sound caught their attention from the second level, and Hawke and Piper looked up. A handful of people were at the top of the stairs: Hawke’s brother Carver, a police officer, the coroner, and a pair of paramedics with a gurney. 

Piper’s heart leapt into her throat. She and Hawke watched in silence as the gurney carrying Malcolm’s body was carefully transported down the stairs. 

Hawke’s grip on her hand was so tight that it was starting to hurt, but Piper didn’t pull away. She barely breathed as the gurney was carefully set on the floor, then wheeled toward the door. 

“Wait!” Leandra yelled. She ran out of the kitchen, shoving past Carver and the police officer to grab at the sheet covering Malcolm’s face. She pulled the sheet back, and Piper instinctively dropped her gaze. 

Leandra was sobbing, horrible wracking sobs that made Piper’s chest hurt. “Oh Malcolm, my love, it was too soon, too soon…”

Piper pressed her lips together hard. Hawke sniffled quietly beside her, and Piper protectively wrapped her arm around Hawke’s shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we have to take him,” the coroner said quietly. “You and your family can follow the ambulance if-”

“You did this!” Leandra suddenly shouted, and Piper looked up to find Leandra glaring at Hawke. Her face was haggard with tears and twisted with rage. “I know you were responsible, Rynne, I _know_ it was you-”

Horrified and disgusted, Piper pulled Hawke more tightly into her shoulder. Carver stepped forward and wrapped his arm around his mother. “Come on, Mom,” he whispered. Without looking at Hawke, he led Leandra back to the kitchen. 

The parade of police and paramedics finally took Malcolm’s body away, and Piper turned to Hawke. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out of here. Come back to Isabela’s tonight, you know that spare room is yours whenever you want it. We can watch _Deadpool_ \- oh wait, he gets cancer, never mind, fuck…” 

Hawke blurted a wet little laugh and wiped her tear-stained face. “Honestly, _Deadpool_ would be kind of perfect. But I have to stay here.”

Piper’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You can’t stay here.” Hawke’s mother was toxic. Hell, this whole house was toxic now, tainted with Malcolm’s death. There was no way Hawke could stay here tonight. 

“Hawke?” 

Piper looked up to see Varric stepping into the house. He made his way over to the bench where Piper and Hawke were sitting. “Hey, Rowdy,” he said softly. 

Piper gave him a little half-smile as he sat on Hawke’s other side and gave Hawke’s hand a gentle pat. “How are you holding up?”

Hawke gave a bright little laugh. Her nose was red from crying, and her eyes were puffy. “I’m great. I always wanted to know what it would be like to live in a soap opera. And look, my dream has come true!” She waved her arm expansively at the house. 

Piper and Varric exchanged a quick look. Hawke never stopped cracking jokes, not even when terrible things were happening. It was one of her most endearing and most worrying traits. 

Varric leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Listen, Hawke. When they call you in to the courthouse, don’t say anything until you have a lawyer. The first thing they’ll do is ask if you have one, and it won’t go any farther after that. So just say you need to find a lawyer, and then you’ll get a couple days to find someone.”

Piper gave him a quizzical look. “How do you know that?”

Varric raised one eyebrow and smiled faintly. “Research for a book. It’s a crime drama. Needed to bulk up on my law knowledge.”

Piper scoffed. “Of course.” How Varric found the time to write novels while managing both the Hanged Man and Athenril’s Café in Lowtown, she would never know. 

Hawke chuckled as well, then elbowed Varric. “You should base your book off of me. I’d be a great main character. Gorgeous, charming, charismatic-”

Varric rolled his eyes and elbowed her back. “I’m serious, Hawke. Don’t say anything to incriminate yourself, okay? You need a lawyer.”

Piper frowned. Why would Varric think Hawke would incriminate herself? She hadn’t done anything wrong. 

Hawke sighed. “All right, all right, no talking without a lawyer, got it.” She glanced toward the kitchen where Carver was hugging a sobbing Leandra, then sighed again. “Listen, you two, I’m glad you’re here and I wish we could party some more, but I should go take care of things. Maker knows those two aren’t going to be able to do anything useful. I should call the funeral home, ask the coroner guy how long it’ll take to examine Dad…” 

Her voice caught for a moment, and Piper tightened her arm around Hawke’s shoulders. Hawke had barely had a chance to breathe since her dad had died. She’d barely even had a second to cry, and already she was thinking about the practicalities and the funeral arrangements and all that shit? When Piper’s dad had died, she’d been… frozen. Numb. She’d barely heard a word the doctors were saying. Deshanna had basically had to hold her hand and talk her through every step of the funeral arrangements. 

Piper swallowed hard at the horrible memories, then squeezed Hawke’s shoulders. “Seriously, Hawke, give yourself a night. Just one night. Come over to our place,” she pleaded. “We’ll make you popcorn, Merrill will make you some Dalish medicinal tea, it’s really good for the nerves…” 

Hawke shook her head, then rose from the bench. “I can’t, Pipes, really. I would love to, but I have to be here. They… they don’t think so, but they need me.” She gently chucked Piper’s chin and tugged Varric’s earlobe. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll text you both tomorrow, okay?” 

Piper frowned worriedly as Hawke strolled off toward the kitchen. Then she looked at Varric. “Why do you think she’d say something to incriminate herself?” she asked.

Varric twisted his lips and shrugged. “Leandra has always had a weird hold over the Hawkes,” he said. “They usually do exactly as she says. I wouldn’t be surprised if her harping somehow convinces Hawke that she did something wrong.” He stood from the bench and waved for her to follow him.

“But _murder?_ ” Piper said in total disbelief. “It’s - that’s - it’s fucking ridiculous.”

“I know,” Varric said quietly as he led Piper toward the door. “With the help of a lawyer, it’ll get sorted out, I’m sure.” 

Piper nodded as she followed him outside of the Hawke’s family home. She hoped Varric was right. 

“I’m going to give her a couple days off,” Varric told Piper. “Nora will fill in for her in the meantime. Just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

“Sure,” Piper said. Then she sighed in mock-sadness. “I’ll be lonely without someone to dance with on the bar, though. Will you dance with me while Hawke is away?” She smiled winningly at her boss.

He rolled his eyes. “Not a chance, Rowdy. You’re on your own.” He patted her elbow, then waved goodnight as they set off toward their respective homes. 

Piper popped her earphones in and turned up her music as she made her way back to Isabela’s, but even the loud and gritty riffs of The Black Keys couldn’t quite drown out her worries. 

Even if Hawke’s dad had overdosed on lyrium, that didn’t mean it was anyone’s fault. The few times that Piper had met Malcolm, it was clear that he was brilliant. If he’d wanted to drug himself with all the lyrium his hospice nurses could provide, Piper had no doubt that he was capable. 

_Either way, it’s not Hawke’s fault,_ she thought angrily. She still couldn’t believe Hawke’s own mother was trying to get her arrested.

But Varric was confident that a good lawyer would smooth things over. If Varric believed it, so would Piper. 

She just hoped that whatever lawyer the Kirkwall courts provided would be good enough.

********************

Two days later, Piper was counting out the cash before the start of shift when the door of the Hanged Man opened. She looked up curiously, and her eyes widened as Hawke breezed inside. 

“What are you doing here?” Piper demanded. “You’re supposed to be off!”

“Nah,” Hawke said. She strolled behind the bar with a grin. “Honestly, I’d rather be here than at home. My mom is being, well, _herself_. And Carver is totally useless with the funeral arrangements. I need to just get away from them for a night.”

Piper watched dumbly as Hawke started unpacking the dishwasher. “But… wait. Didn’t you have that arraignment thingy today?”

“Yeah,” Hawke said casually. She swiftly started racking the shot glasses under the bar. “It was exactly like Varric said. They said I have the right to a lawyer, and I said I don’t have one, and they were like, ‘okay bye, come back when you have one’.” 

Piper frowned and slowly started helping her with the dishwasher. “Seriously?”

Hawke gave a little laugh. “Well, not exactly. I have forty-eight hours to find a lawyer. But that’s plenty of time.” 

“So… so have you… what about a public defender or whatever? Aren’t they supposed to offer you one?” Piper asked. 

“They did,” Hawke replied. She continued to put away the wine glasses.

Piper wilted and leaned against the bar. “And you didn’t accept because…?”

Hawke shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “Come on, Pipes, haven’t you ever seen any TV? Public defenders are the worst lawyers! I can’t accept a public defender. Maybe I’ll just speak for myself in court.”

“What?” Piper blurted. “You can’t do that!”

Hawke stuck her tongue out. “I’m an adult! I can do what I want!” She elbowed Piper. “Now come on, get to counting that cash. You know I suck at math, can’t have me getting in there and fucking it up.” 

Piper pursed her lips.There was no talking to Hawke when she was doing her whole ‘the world has just exploded but it’s fine’ thing, so Piper shifted to plan B: making Hawke laugh as much as possible. 

“Fine,” she said. “But before I do that…” She flitted over to the karaoke machine. 

“Maker’s balls, are you finally going to sing for me?” Hawke said excitedly. 

Piper laughed. “Not a chance, bitch. Even better.” She opened the music library on the laptop, then started up the perfect song. 

It was _Baby Got Back_. Piper immediately launched into an over-exaggerated dance sequence, and she grinned as Hawke burst into laughter. Within moments, they were both dancing to the 90s classic. 

Varric poked his head out of his office and raised an eyebrow at their terrible gyrating. “I hope you know I’m counting this as your first break of the night.” 

“No you’re not,” Piper yelled over the music. “Think of this as an employee health and wellness initiative.”

Varric rolled his eyes. “What about the employer’s health and wellness?” he groused. Then he shut his office door without waiting for a reply.

Hawke and Piper grinned at each other, then laughed and kept on madly dancing until they were breathless and sweaty. Piper grinned as she studied Hawke’s flushed and laughing face. She might not be able to help Hawke with her legal problems, but at least she could cheer her up.

Later that night, when the Hanged Man had officially opened and the usual Thursday post-work bustle was well under way, Piper was pouring a half dozen shots and taking another order when a very polite voice broke through the noise.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to disturb you - may I ask you something?”

Piper looked up and met a pair of warm brown eyes. They belonged to a blond man she’d never seen before in the Hanged Man. Stern eyebrows were offset by a _very_ nice smile, and - _ooh,_ a scar over his right lip, like an exaggerated mirror image to Piper’s own scarred upper lip.

 _Handsome,_ she thought. Very handsome, in fact. She gave him a saucy smile. “Blowjob?” she asked.

The handsome blond stranger recoiled, and to Piper’s intense amusement, his cheeks instantly turned red. “I - I beg your pardon?”

She winked at the customer she was serving, then pulled out a shot glass from under the bar and flipped it deftly before catching it and setting it on the bar in front of the newcomer. “It’s our drink special tonight,” she said. “And I mix them out _very_ well, if I do say so myself. Care to try one?”

The blond man tugged nervously at his tie. “Ah! I see. But, er, n-no thank you. I…” 

Piper chuckled. Even his ears were turning red now. She decided to take mercy on him. “It’s all right, I promise I won’t bite,” she told him. “What can I get for you?” 

He ran his hand over his wavy blond hair. “I - in fact, I was wondering…” He cleared his throat and seemed to collect himself, then placed one hand on the bar. “Might I speak to Rynne Hawke? I believe she works here.” 

Piper lifted her chin appraisingly. “Maybe. Who are you?”

“Oh. Forgive me,” he said. “Rude of me to not introduce myself. I’m Cullen.” He reached across the bar. “Cullen Rutherford.”

Piper reached out and shook his proffered hand. “I’m Piper,” she said. 

“Piper. It’s nice to meet you,” he said. He smiled, and Piper’s belly did a funny little flip-flop. He really was incredibly handsome.

Then the other shoe dropped, and Piper’s jaw dropped as well. “Wait. _The_ Cullen Rutherford?” she blurted. “You’re Batman.”

Those stern eyebrows of his jumped up on his forehead. “I’m sorry?”

Piper laughed and clapped her free hand over her mouth. “Sorry! I mean - but - you’re that fancy lawyer who goes around helping people!” 

Cullen burst out a little laugh. “I wouldn’t quite describe myself like that,” he said. “But I had heard about Miss Hawke’s trouble in the local news. I was hoping to speak with her, if she has a moment. I know you are very busy…” He looked around the lively pub. 

“She’s on her break right now,” Piper explained. “But if you don’t mind waiting for five minutes, she’ll be back soon.” 

Then Piper realized she was still holding Cullen’s outstretched hand. 

He seemed to realize it at the same time as her: his cheeks pinkened again, and he carefully released her hand. “I - forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…” 

She grinned at him. Creators, he was so bashful. She leaned her elbows on the bar. “Do you blush this much when you’re in court?” she asked. “I can’t imagine it’s a very sound strategy when you’re arguing your cases.” 

He cleared his throat loudly and darted a look around the bar as though he was searching for rescue. “I - no. I don’t usually, er, blush very much at all.” He shot her a narrow-eyed little smile. “You seem to be bringing out the worst in me.” 

Her belly hopped with a fresh rush of warmth. This was too good of an opening to miss. Piper leaned toward him slightly. “I certainly hope so,” she purred. “My first order of bad-influence would be loosening that tie of yours.”

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, and Piper shamelessly admired his reddening cheeks. There was a happy buzzing in her belly, and she marvelled at the strange but familiar feeling of giddiness. 

It had been months since she’d felt any kind of interest in anyone. Peronn was the last man who’d piqued her interest, and ever since he’d betrayed her, she’d been feeling a little… well, a little dead inside from a romantic perspective. Lots of people tried to hit on her at the bar, and although she flirted back, it was only for her job. She’d never considered having any kind of sexual or romantic encounters with any of the men who came to the Hanged Man. 

But there was something about this oddly bashful lawyer that was bringing her out of her shell. The fact that he wasn’t trying to hit on her, and that he was responding in such an adorably shy manner, was making her feel more comfortable than she’d felt in months. 

_Ah, it’s just flirting,_ she thought. It wasn’t like she was really trying to start anything with Cullen. She wasn’t ready to be with anyone yet, not after the Peronn disaster. But it was still nice to enjoy this giddy feeling. 

She rested her chin on her fist. “Seriously though. Do you always wear a suit and tie when you come out to the bars after work?” 

He raised one eyebrow. “I am still working, technically,” he reminded her. 

“Hmm,” Piper murmured thoughtfully. “So if you weren’t working, then. Tie off? Blazer off? Shirtsleeves rolled up, maybe?” She wiggled her eyebrows flirtatiously.

He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “That’s usually, well. That would be more appropriate for a casual setting.” He glanced at her cropped sleeveless Blightfall T-shirt. “And you? What does your non-work clothing look like?” 

Piper shrugged and plucked the tattered hem of her shirt. “Pretty much like this.” Then she tilted her head coquettishly. “Why? Do you like what you see?”

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered, and Piper laughed merrily at his flush crept toward his ears again. He shot her a chiding little smile. “Can we speak of something else?”

Piper chuckled and finally let him off the hook. She drifted along the bar and took a few orders, then returned to Cullen while she wiped down the bar. “So is it true that you take people’s cases for free sometimes?” she asked.

Cullen nodded. “When I can. It doesn’t happen often, as my job keeps me extremely busy. But Kirkwall is…” He paused for a moment, then sighed and rested his palms on the bar. “Our legal system is difficult to navigate and often contradictory. Working here requires a particular kind of training and specialization. With the division of wealth in this city, some people can’t afford the protection they deserve. And some legal representation is not… as it should be.” He shrugged sadly. “I can think of no better cause than to protect those in need, but some members of my profession don’t quite have the same outlook.”

Piper stared at him. His frown was so stern, and he sounded so confident. It was a surprising contrast to his bashfulness, and it was obvious now why he was so well-known in Kirkwall: if he was this authoritative in court, he probably won every case he represented. But the things he was saying…

It was too good to be true. It had to be. Cullen was spouting such idealistic thoughts, of protecting people who needed help and couldn’t afford it. But he was clearly well-off, as evidenced by the cut of his clothes and the tasteful but expensive-looking watch that peeked out from beneath his suit cuff. No lawyer could really be both rich and selfless, could they?

 _Nah,_ she thought dismissively. She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. “So you don’t even take a tiny fee from these people whose cases you take in your spare time?”

“I’m legally required to take a small retainer,” he said. “A few dollars is more than enough.” 

Piper raised her eyebrows even further. “If you care that little about the money, why not be a public defender?” 

Cullen smiled - the broadest smile she’d yet seen on his face. “You’re asking questions that I have asked myself before,” he told her. He tilted his head slightly. “And you’re cross-examining me quite thoroughly. Are you sure you’re not training for a legal career yourself?”

Piper smiled back, but didn’t respond. A flirty quip was at the tip of her tongue, but she held it back; she actually wanted to hear his answer.

Finally Cullen replied. “Public defenders get very little choice about who they represent,” he said. “And I…” He sighed. “I will admit that I am selfish enough to prefer having the choice. Taking private pro-bono cases allows me the flexibility to choose who I represent.” 

Piper narrowed her eyes. “So do you believe some people are more deserving of legal representation than others, then?”

“Not at all,” Cullen said firmly. “But more than anything, I believe in justice. Punishment for those who have done wrong, second chances for those who made genuine mistakes, and freedom for those who are truly innocent. If the flaws of our legal system put any of those things at risk, I will do everything I can to correct the situation.” 

Piper stared at him, heart fluttering and cloth forgotten in her hand. As she studied the stern conviction in his face, she realized that she’d never met anyone quite like Cullen before. His whole shy-and-bashful thing was adorable, but when it came to the law - no, not just law, but the overarching philosophy of justice - he was so… passionate. He seemed so committed to his purpose, as though he really just wanted to help people. 

Creators, it seemed like he really was the goody-good that the rumours made him out to be. And for some reason, Piper really wanted to believe those rumours.

Suddenly he smiled and gave a tiny self-deprecating laugh, and Piper released her breath. “Forgive me,” Cullen said. “I doubt you were expecting a lecture. Sometimes I get carried away…” 

Her heart was still pounding in her throat. She swallowed hard, then shrugged and smiled. “You’d be surprised how often we bartenders get lectured at work. Or maybe you wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t mind a lecture from _you_.”

Her words were flirtatious, but to Piper’s surprise, she realized that her intent was serious. Cullen’s smile grew wider, and his cheeks turned the slightest bit pink. “Perhaps another time,” he said softly. 

Piper smiled back, then dropped her gaze to the bar and started wiping it again. Now _she_ was the one feeling shy. 

“I’m back!” Hawke bounced over to Piper’s side. “You want your break now, Pipes?” Her gaze slid over to Cullen, and she raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me, sir, but why haven’t you had a blowjob yet?”

Piper snorted a laugh, and Cullen chuckled as well, this time without blushing. “Thank you, but I’m fine,” he said. “You are Miss Hawke, I presume?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Hawke said. “But please, it’s just Hawke.” She elbowed Piper. “How come you haven’t gotten him a drink yet? Is it because he’s thirsty for you?” She winked at Cullen. 

Piper watched with interest as Cullen’s cheeks flushed for the umpteenth time. “Ah, Miss Haw- er, Hawke. My name is Cullen Rutherford,” he said. “I’m a lawyer specializing in criminal law. Without meaning to pry, I have heard about your father’s case in the news, and I was wondering if you were in need of representation.” 

Hawke’s smile suddenly fell into a look of total surprise. She looked at Piper with wide eyes. “Wait. Is this real?” 

Piper nodded. “Yeah. I screened him for you. He seems legit.”

Cullen chuckled. “I appreciate your confidence, Piper.”

She smiled at him, then bit the inside of her cheek as his eyes lingered on her face. Then Hawke laughed. “I… your timing is crazy,” she told Cullen. “And yes, I’ve been told I need representation, but… I don’t know, I was thinking of representing myself.”

Piper put the cloth on the bar and faced her friend. “No,” she said loudly. “You can’t do that, Hawke. Haven’t _you_ seen any TV? People who represent themselves always get fucked over.” 

Cullen cleared his throat gently. “Hawke, if I may speak with you privately?” 

Hawke twisted her lips, then sighed and looked at Piper. “You don’t mind manning the bar for a little longer?”

“No, no! Go. Go talk to him,” she said. She shooed Hawke away. 

Cullen rose from his bar stool and nodded to Piper. “Thank you,” he said. 

She tilted her head. “For what? Hawke’s right. I didn’t even serve you a drink.” 

“For the company,” Cullen explained. “And the conversation. It was… very pleasant.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, then smiled once more and moved away to meet Hawke at the end of the bar.

Piper watched as he and Hawke went to Varric’s empty office, then turned back to the bar with a goofy smile on her face. Gods, he was cute. And fun to talk to. And just… good. 

At that thought, a tiny pang of worry nibbled at the back of Piper’s mind - the same nibble of worry that had embedded itself in her brain after Peronn’s betrayal, and that always seemed to whisper worries in her ear whenever Piper decided to trust anyone for any reason. Piper liked to think she was moving on quite well from the Peronn incident; she’d allowed Hawke into her life, and she could conclusively say Hawke was the best friend she’d ever had. She trusted Isabela enough to move into Isabela’s condo, and she trusted that Isabela and Merrill wouldn’t steal her shit and that Isabela wouldn’t fuck her over with regard to rent payments. 

But trusting someone with her heart was a different matter. And despite Cullen’s apparent goodness, Piper wasn’t sure she was ready to make that leap just yet. 

Not that Cullen was offering or anything. Not that _she_ was offering, either. Besides, Cullen had come to the Hanged Man for work, and there was no guarantee that Hawke would sign him on as her lawyer. Piper might never see Cullen again after this.

Fifteen minutes later, Hawke and Cullen emerged from the office. Hawke’s eyes were red and puffy, but she was smiling, and she nodded as Cullen spoke seriously to her. Then Hawke made her way around the back of the bar. 

Piper reached out and squeezed her arm as she drew close. “You okay?” she said softly. 

Hawke nodded. “I’m great,” she said. “And I have a lawyer.” She smiled at Cullen as he came to stand in front of them. 

He rested one hand on the bar. “We will speak again soon, Hawke,” he said, and Hawke nodded again. Then his eyes fell on Piper’s face. 

A small smiled lifted the scarred corner of his lip. “Piper,” he said softly. “I hope… well. Perhaps we will speak again soon, as well.”

His tone was gentle but warm, and Piper ignored the jolt of nervous anticipation in her belly. “You know where to find me, counsellor,” she said, and she winked.

He smiled more widely and dropped his eyes, then patted the bar and walked away. 

“Andraste’s tits,” Hawke marvelled. “My lawyer has a hard-on for you. Do you think he’ll work extra hard on my case if he knows you’re my best friend? I mean, I’ll never say no to a little nepotism-”

Piper scoffed and shoved Hawke’s arm. “Oh, go pour some drinks, why don’t you? You’ve done basically no work all night.” 

Hawke cackled and moved away. “Fine, fine. But seriously, I might need you to come to some of my appointments with him!”

Piper rolled her eyes and went back to taking drink orders, but Cullen remained at the front of her mind. She knew Hawke was joking, but she was fairly sure Cullen didn’t need any extra incentive to work hard on any case he chose to take. If he cared about justice as much as he said he did, Piper was sure he would work just as hard on Hawke’s pro-bono case as he would on any of his fancy paid cases.

Only time would tell if Cullen was as good as he seemed. And if Piper was really honest with herself, she was looking forward to finding out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A WILD CULLEN HAS APPEARED FINALLY OMG IT TOOK LONG ENOUGH T_T
> 
> Piper Lavellan is the brainchild of [Schoute on Tumblr,](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) who draws beautiful art of these baes! Go follow her immediately! xoxo


	4. Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In preparation for this chapter, I would like to beg all readers to imagine Isabela, Merrill, and Piper’s home as [Commander Shepard’s apartment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQMaZn-y1ks) in Mass Effect 3’s Citadel DLC, but with four big master bedrooms and a huge balcony overlooking Kirkwall.

It was another two weeks before Piper saw Cullen again. 

It was a hectic Friday night at the Hanged Man, and Hawke and Piper were so busy that they barely had time to do more than ask each other for change or pass the bottles back and forth. By the time Piper noticed Cullen at the bar, she wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting.

Her eyes widened as they fell on his handsome face. “Cullen! How long have you been sitting there?” she yelled. A group of girls was singing _Dancing Queen_ , and Piper could barely hear herself over their enthusiastic caterwauling.

Cullen waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine,” he called back. “I’m waiting for Hawke. Don’t mind me.”

Piper swiftly pulled another pint of Chasind sack mead and slid it across the bar while simultaneously punching the customer’s total into the machine. Once the customer was dealt with, she slid along the bar until she was facing Cullen. “Can I get you something while you wait?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, thank you,” he yelled. He lifted one shoulder and gave her a rueful half-smile. “Still working, I’m afraid.” 

Creators, that little smile and that scarred lip of his… She’d almost forgotten how handsome he was. 

_Almost_.

She smiled back. “You don’t look like you’re working, counsellor,” she teased. Indeed, he was lacking the sharp suit jacket of the first time they’d met, and though his tie was neatly in place, his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. 

Cullen smiled more widely and scratched the back of his neck, and Piper’s shameless eyes followed the movement of his arm. He had a lovely tracing of veins on his forearms, and they were sprinkled with a perfect dusting of golden hair, and-

“I took your advice,” he replied, and Piper forced her attention back to his face. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt to lose the jacket on a Friday night. Especially in a place like this.” He glanced around the busy pub, and if Piper wasn’t mistaken, he looked a little bit nervous. 

She raised one teasing eyebrow and leaned her elbows on the bar. “What, the Hanged Man isn’t fancy enough for your refined tastes?”

His expression slackened with surprise. “What? No, it’s - it’s not that,” he said quickly. “I simply mean that it’s hot in here.” 

Piper tilted her head coquettishly. “You could take off that tie, then. Maybe unbutton your shirt a little. I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

He ducked his head shyly, then lifted his face to meet her gaze, and Piper grinned at the pinkness of his cheeks. “You… you seem quite preoccupied with getting me to loosen up,” he said. 

“Of course I am,” Piper replied cheerfully. “Everyone has to relax sometimes, right?” 

Cullen’s smile broadened, and for a warm, breathless moment, Piper simply gazed into his bright chocolatey eyes. That giddy feeling was in her belly again, like a warm and pleasant wriggling as she fell into his gaze. 

Then he cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “I… would you happen to know when Hawke will be free? We were meant to meet at seven o’clock.”

Piper couldn’t help but feel disappointed by the change of topic, even though she knew he hadn’t come to the Hanged Man for her. She grimaced apologetically. “Sorry, Cullen. We usually have a bar-back, but she got food poisoning. We’re run off our feet tonight. But let me grab her, I can cover while the two of you meet.”

Cullen hastily waved his hand. “No, it’s all right,” he said. “You - I can see how busy you are. I’ve already taken too much of your time.” 

Piper watched with a pang of fondness as he rose to his feet. He was so damned sweet, being concerned about her and Hawke’s time when he was the hot-shot lawyer who was taking time from his schedule to help Hawke out. Covering the bar while he spoke to Hawke was the least that Piper could do for them both. 

“Really, Cullen, it’s all right,” she yelled. “Sit down, I’ll go grab her.” Without waiting for his response, she hurried to the end of the bar. 

Hawke was in the midst of filling two orders while taking two more, and Piper swiftly sidled over and filled the orders that Hawke had just received. She leaned in close as Hawke took a credit card for a tab. “Cullen is here,” she said into Hawke’s ear. “He’s-”

“Oh fuck,” Hawke said. “I should have texted him to reschedule when Porfiria called in sick - fuck it, fuck.” She _tsk_ ed, then gave Piper a desperate look. “Can you-”

“Go! I’ve got it,” Piper urged. She gently pulled Hawke aside, stepping seamlessly into her role and finishing the drinks that Hawke had started mixing out. 

“You’re a doll,” Hawke said, then swiftly kissed Piper on the cheek. She hurried to the end of the bar to speak to Cullen, and all of Piper’s attention was pulled back to the clamouring crowd. 

Less than five minutes later, however, Hawke slid over to her and bumped her with her hip. “I’m back!” she panted. “Are you good to stay here? I’ll cover the other end.”

“What happened to your meeting?” Piper said in surprise. 

“We rescheduled,” Hawke replied. She blew a businessman a kiss as he left a large tip, then swept the coins off of the bar and began to wipe it down. “He’s going to come to Isabela’s tomorrow.” 

“He is?” Piper said stupidly. Rescheduling to a Saturday… He was willing to do that for a client? And not even a paying one? 

Hawke seemed to misunderstand the reason for Piper’s surprise. “Well, we can’t very well meet at my house, can we?” she said. “Not with my mother there.” She slid a pair of pints across the bar and winked at the customers that they belonged to.

“No, no, that makes sense,” Piper said hurriedly. “I’m just…” She trailed off as she realized what it meant if Cullen was coming to Isabela’s place. 

Cullen was coming to _her_ place. 

An undeniable little thrill ran down her spine, followed by a ripple of apprehension, and Piper frowned. _He’s not coming to the house to see you, you nerd,_ she scolded herself. There was absolutely no reason to be excited. 

She lifted her eyes to meet Hawke’s gaze, only to find Hawke grinning wickedly at her.

Piper shot her a chiding look, then peered closely at Hawke’s face and pointed at the corner of her mouth. “What’s that there on your lip?” she asked. 

Hawke raised her eyebrows in surprise and hastily wiped her face. “What? What is it?”

“It’s shit,” Piper announced. “Get that shit-eating grin off your face.” She turned back to the bar and smiled at another waiting patron. 

Beside her, Hawke burst into laughter, and Piper smirked as Hawke shoved her. “You bitch,” Hawke cackled. “Trying to change the subject. I think you’re just as interested in my sweetheart of a lawyer as he is in you.” 

Piper shrugged. Her chest was still buzzing at the idea of him coming to the condo tomorrow, but it felt… risky, somehow, to admit her interest. 

Unfortunately, Hawke knew her too well, and she accurately interpreted Piper’s silence. “He’s nothing like that Peronn asshole,” she said bluntly. 

Piper shrugged again. “You can’t know that.” And that was the problem. For months, Piper had thought that Peronn was a decent guy. He’d always treated her nicely, right up until the moment he didn’t. 

Cullen might seem like a nice guy, but how could she know for sure? 

“Well, you can’t know either unless you give him a chance,” Hawke reasoned. Before Piper could reply, she slid away to the other end of the bar, picking up empty glasses along the way and sticking them in the sink as she took another patron’s order. 

Piper twisted her lips uncertainly, then smiled brightly at the couple in front of her. She knew that Hawke had a point, but it was just so hard to ignore that skeptical, bitter little voice that Peronn’s abuse had planted in her mind.

_Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway,_ Piper thought. Cullen might be coming to her home tomorrow, but he wasn’t coming to talk to her. He’d be busy helping Hawke with her case, so it wasn’t like Piper would have a chance to talk to him. 

Or so she thought. But, as Piper found out the next day, Hawke had other ideas. 

Piper came downstairs late the next morning to find Hawke in the kitchen making cookie dough with Merrill’s stand mixer. 

Piper raised her eyebrows. “You’re here early,” she remarked. “I thought you said Cullen wasn’t coming until noon.” 

“He’s not,” Hawke said as she scraped the mixer bowl. “Pass me the chocolate chips, would you?” 

Piper passed her the packet of chocolate chips, then poured herself a cup of coffee and sat on the kitchen counter. She yawned and lifted the mug to her lips. “What are the cookies for?” she asked, then took a sip of her coffee. 

“For Isabela,” Hawke said. “As thanks for letting me hide out here yet again for the millionth time since this whole shitshow happened.”

“Ah. That’s nice,” Piper said. “Especially since cookies are one of the only things you can actually make properly.” She grinned cheekily. 

Hawke spun around and threw a chocolate chip at Piper, and they both snickered before returning to their respective activities of cookie-making and coffee-drinking. 

“Seriously though,” Piper said. “You should move into the spare bedroom here. You know we’d love to have you.” She lifted her mug to her lips, fully expecting Hawke to refuse as she usually did, but to Piper’s surprise, Hawke didn’t reply. 

Piper lowered the mug from her mouth. “Are you thinking about it? Actually?” she asked excitedly. 

Hawke shrugged and tilted her head and grimaced - a whole-body way of saying _I have no idea_. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “My mother has been more, uh, difficult since the funeral. And I mean, if Carver can just move out, then so can I, right?”

Hawke’s tone was casual, but she wasn’t looking at Piper as she spoke, and Piper knew Hawke well enough to know the question wasn’t rhetorical. “Right,” she said firmly. “That’s right. You can. Just get the fuck out of that house.” 

Hawke nodded, but she didn’t speak, and a moment later she turned the mixer back on. Piper sipped her coffee quietly until Hawke stopped the mixer and started scraping the bowl.

Then Piper spoke again. “It can’t be, you know… legally ideal for you to be living in the same house as the person who called the police and got you charged with murder, can it?”

Hawke laughed. “It’s not great, no. Cullen suggested staying elsewhere until things are sorted out.”

Piper perked up. “So he thinks it’ll get sorted out, then?”

“I think so. He’s still collecting the police reports and coroner’s reports and stuff, but… yeah, he seems confident. His confidence is quite sexy, actually.” Hawke shot her a sidelong glance as she tore off a piece of plastic wrap.

Piper shrugged and put her empty mug on the counter. “I’m not denying that he’s sexy.”

“Good! That’s a start,” Hawke said. She covered the bowl of cookie dough with plastic wrap, then carried it over to the fridge. 

Piper eyed Hawke as she moved the contents of the fridge around to make space for her bowl. “You think I’m being a pussy,” Piper accused. 

“No,” Hawke said. She put the bowl in the fridge, then turned and gave Piper a very serious look. “No, I don’t,” she said firmly. “I think that someone fucked you over, and you’re being cautious. But I also think you shouldn’t let Peronn ruin all other men for you.”

Piper plucked idly at one of the leather braided bracelets on her wrist. “Easier said than done.”

“I know,” Hawke said. “Baby steps. You just need to be willing to take those baby steps.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Piper muttered. She rubbed her bracelets between her fingers for a moment longer, then glanced at Rynne as she started putting away the baking ingredients. “Why do you put the dough in the fridge, anyway? Why not just bake the cookies right away?”

“Patience, young padawan,” Hawke crooned.

Piper smirked at her. “You’re the least patient person I know.”

“You’re not wrong,” Hawke chuckled. “But when it comes to cookies, patience is key. If the dough sits in the fridge, the flavours meld together and get all caramel-y. They taste way more rich if the ingredients all have some time to just sit and settle together.” 

Piper narrowed her eyes. “That sounds fake.” 

Hawke rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Come on, admit it. My chocolate chip cookies are _good_. They’re better than Athenril’s!” 

Piper laughed. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Your cookies are actually really good.” 

Hawke lifted her chin smugly, and Piper smiled and slid off the counter. “All right, chef. Now that your fancy-fuck dough is in the fridge, d’you want to play a game or something until Cullen comes?”

Hawke grinned. “You know it.” 

By the time Cullen showed up at five minutes to noon, Piper and Hawke were so deeply immersed in a particularly annoying level of _Portal 2_ that the buzz of the intercom took Piper entirely by surprise. 

“Fuck,” Hawke hissed. “I feel like we were a second away from cracking that one.” She jumped up from the couch and hurried over to the intercom to buzz Cullen in.

Piper, meanwhile, rose from the couch and shamelessly ran to the bathroom to check her reflection before Cullen could come to the door. She tugged her loose braid over her right shoulder and self-consciously tugged her left ear - _stupid big ears_ , she thought - then, reasonably satisfied with her appearance, she strolled out of the bathroom. 

She returned to the foyer just as Hawke was letting Cullen in. “Hello, Hawke,” he said with a smile. Then his eyes drifted over to Piper.

He straightened. “Piper!” he said. “What - I’m - it’s good to see you.” He ran a hand over his hair, and Piper couldn’t help but smile at him; his cheeks were turning slightly pink.

“Oh,” Hawke said innocently. “Didn’t I tell you? Piper lives here. Our other friend Merrill does as well.” She turned toward the kitchen and threw Piper the tiniest wink. 

_Fucking Hawke,_ Piper thought with a surge of amusement. She tilted her head at Cullen. “Do you want some coffee?” 

He cleared his throat. “Er - no thank you, Piper. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, I’m afraid.”

“Tea, then?” Piper asked. “We have a lot of tea.” 

“Oh. Yes, that would be nice, thank you. Do you have earl grey?” He followed her toward the kitchen. 

“We do,” Piper confirmed. She waved for him to sit in one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, then bustled around making tea while Hawke helpfully leaned against the stove watching like a gooseberry.

Cullen gingerly seated himself on the stool. “I have to say, I feel a bit guilty having you serve me in your own home,” he said. “Is there something I can do to help?”

Piper shot him an amused look. “It’s just tea, Cullen. It’s hardly difficult. And besides, you’re a guest. _And_ you’re helping this idiot.” She jerked her head at Hawke, who beamed at them and did a peace sign. “A cup of tea is the least we can do.” 

“Is that the gorgeous lawyer I’ve heard so much about?” Isabela’s voice floated down from the upper level, and then Isabela herself traipsed down the stairs. She sashayed into the kitchen and gave Cullen a salacious smile. “Cullen Rutherford. You’re almost as famous in this city as I am.”

Cullen coughed awkwardly. “That’s hardly the case,” he said. He nodded politely to Isabela. “I enjoy your movies. You were very good in the film adaptation of _Hard in Hightown._ ” 

Isabela beamed at him. “Why, thank you! Did you ever see my first film adaptation of that particular story?” 

Cullen tilted his head quizzically at Isabela’s loaded tone, and Piper elbowed her. “Leave him alone,” she scolded.

Isabela gave a throaty laugh. “It’s an innocent question. My non-mainstream work is still some of my best, I think.” 

Cullen’s face was a picture of confusion, and Piper determinedly turned away from Isabela. “Cullen, do you take milk or sugar in your tea? Or lemon?” she said loudly. If he wasn’t cottoning on to what Isabela was talking about, Piper wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten him in front of everyone. She didn’t know him well, but she could only imagine how flustered he would be if he figured out that Isabela was referring to her previous career in the porn industry.

“Oh, er. A splash of milk, if you have it.” Cullen rose from his stool as Piper carefully brought him the mug. 

She held the mug out to him, and he carefully took it from her hands. “Thank you,” he said. 

His lovely brown eyes were steady on her face. His fingers were warm against her own as she transferred the mug to him, and Piper could feel the tips of her ears going warm. “You’re, um, welcome,” she murmured. 

Cullen smiled, and Piper’s ears felt even hotter, and… and Hawke and Isabela were being _awfully_ quiet. 

Piper swallowed, then turned to face their big stupid grins with the most neutral expression she could muster. “So, Hawke, you two have case stuff to discuss, I guess…?”

“Yep,” Hawke said cheerfully. “Yes, we do. Cullen, Isabela has an office just around the corner here, if you don’t mind…?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll follow your lead.” He shot Piper a last tiny smile, then picked up his briefcase and followed Hawke toward Isabela’s home office.

As soon as they were gone, Isabela turned to Piper with a wicked smile. “Oh, sweets. He is _gagging_ for you,” she crowed. 

“Shhh,” Piper hissed. “He’ll hear you.” She chivvied Isabela out of the kitchen and toward the living room. 

Isabela plopped down on the couch and idly picked up the controller that Hawke had abandoned. “Why not let him hear?” she said, but thankfully in a quieter voice. “It’ll speed things up nicely.”

“I don’t want to speed things up,” Piper protested. 

“Ohhh,” Isabela said slowly. “This is a feelings thing. I didn’t realize.” She unpaused the game, then started up where Hawke had left off. 

Piper picked up her controller and turned her eyes to the TV. “No it’s not,” she said cagily. “It’s just… he’s fun to flirt with, that’s all. He blushes when he’s flustered.” She smirked. 

Isabela laughed as she started relearning the _Portal 2_ controls. “He does seem sweet. And oddly naive for a man in his thirties. That will be fun for you to break down.” Isabela shot her a quick grin. 

Piper snickered, but didn’t reply. In truth, she didn’t know what this was. Maybe it was just flirting. Or maybe it was a feelings thing. She’d only met Cullen three times, now; how was she supposed to know what this was after only three brief conversations?

If Piper was honest, though, she knew what the broader problem was. _I don’t know what I want,_ she thought as she and Isabela tried to figure out how to get their edgeless safety cube through a solid light wall. Privately, Piper was pretty certain that she was over the one-night-stand lifestyle. It was a strange realization, since she’d always enjoyed the no-strings-attached trysts she’d had before Peronn. But in an odd twist of irony, Peronn’s betrayal had both put her off of romantic relationships altogether, while also amplifying her longing for something more meaningful than the odd fling here and there. As a result, Piper now felt like she was sitting in a strange, ambivalent sort of limbo: she both wanted and shied away from the idea of a more serious relationship, knowing that it would require her to be vulnerable and prone to being hurt again. 

But she didn’t say any of this to Isabela. Only Hawke knew the broader strokes of Peronn’s betrayal, and besides, Isabela was firmly in favour of the one-night-stand lifestyle. She wouldn’t understand Piper’s qualms.

Piper sighed. Then Isabela whooped excitedly. “I think I’ve got it! Look,” she said.

Piper watched Isabela’s manipulations with narrowed eyes. Then she raised her eyebrows as Isabela found a solution to the problem she and Hawke had been struggling with for about twenty minutes. “You clever bitch,” she said slowly.

Isabela laughed huskily. “Thanks, sweets. Get the damned edgeless cube thing up there now.”

Seconds later, they had beaten the level, and Piper turned to Isabela with a smile. “You’re a genius.” 

“I know,” Isabela said smugly. She rose gracefully to her feet, then patted Piper’s cheek. “Take your time if you must,” she said, and Piper knew she was talking about Cullen again. “Just let me know how big his cock is when you finally see it.”

Piper snorted. “You’ll be the first to know,” she drawled. 

“Excellent,” Isabela said cheerfully. “I’m off to run lines. Catch you later.” She wafted away to the upstairs living room, and Piper paused the game and went to her bedroom to fetch her book. She returned the main floor and poured herself a bowl of cereal, then settled on the couch to read.

About an hour later, Hawke and Cullen emerged from the office. Piper looked up as they approached, then frowned in concern: Hawke’s eyes looked a bit puffy, and Cullen was looking quite grave. 

She swallowed. She knew already that she couldn’t - or shouldn’t - ask about the case, since her conversations with Hawke wouldn’t be considered protected or confidential, but she hated seeing Hawke upset. 

She rose from the couch and approached her best friend. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked softly. 

“Let’s bake some cookies,” Hawke announced. She turned to Cullen. “You’ll stay for cookies, right?”

Piper looked up hopefully as Cullen’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh,” he said. “Yes, all right. I’m more of a savoury-snacks person, myself, but I do have a soft spot for a good cookie.”

“Same here,” Piper said. “And Hawke’s cookies are really good.”

Hawke batted her eyelashes. “You flatterer.” She breezed over to the oven and turned it on, then retrieved the dough from the fridge and pulled some cookie sheets out of a cupboard. 

Cullen entered the kitchen. “Now surely this is something I can help with. I am fairly handy in the kitchen,” he said. He began briskly rolling up his sleeves, and Piper literally stopped to stare as his toned forearms made their second appearance in so many days. 

“Great!” Hawke chirped. “Then you two can take over from here.”

Piper tore her eyes away from Cullen’s arms. “Huh? Where are you going?”

“To help Isabela run her lines,” Hawke replied. Her tone was very bland, but her coppery eyes were dancing. She slid away from the kitchen island and gave Piper a very tiny smile before delivering her final instructions. “Twelve cookies per sheet. About two tablespoons of dough per cookie. Check them after thirteen minutes. Thanks!” She ran away up the stairs without waiting for a response. 

Piper rolled her eyes, then smiled ruefully at Cullen. “Sorry. This is probably not what you had planned for your Saturday.”

“It’s perfectly all right,” he said as he moved toward the sink to wash his hands. “What I did have planned was… well, work, quite frankly.”

Piper raised her eyebrows as she joined him. “You work on the weekends?”

“From home,” he clarified. “Which explains how dressed-down I am.” He gestured to his clothing with a little smile.

Piper smiled. He was indeed dressed more casually than she’d ever seen him, but in her eyes, he still looked professional: dark slacks, dress shoes, and a pale blue button-up shirt that was now rolled up to the elbows. 

“No tie, I see,” she said playfully. 

“Exactly,” he replied. “Though if I’d known you were here, I would have worn one.” 

_Was that a flirt?_ Piper shot him a quick glance, then grinned: Cullen was smiling broadly at her. Most definitely a flirt, then. 

She laughed and tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. “If you’d been wearing a tie, I’d have taken it off for you.”

He dropped his eyes as a rosy flush lit his cheeks, and Piper bit the inside of her cheek to quell her grin as she washed her hands. When she turned back to the kitchen island, Cullen was already rolling the dough into balls and placing them on the cookie sheets.

A flutter of excited little butterflies lifted in her belly at the sight of him: this strong, masculine lawyer in his expensive shirtsleeves, confidently making cookies in her kitchen like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

She wandered over to the island and rested her elbows on its surface. “How do you know how to make cookies like a pro?” she asked. 

He gave her a little smile. “Overbearing older sister,” he said. “My mother taught her to bake, and she insisted that I should learn as well. I’m grateful, in the end,” he added. “Baking - well, cooking in general - it’s a useful set of skills. Not one that many law partners have time for, but useful nonetheless.” 

Piper’s eyes widened. “You’re a partner at your firm?” 

“Yes,” Cullen said. “Thankfully, my partners Cassandra and Leliana are willing to shoulder a bit more of the weight of everyday operations to give me time for these pro bono cases. Leliana especially. I worry sometimes that she works too much. More than me, even,” he said with a rueful smile. Then he waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, but I’m lecturing you again…”

Piper shook her head. “Not at all,” she said. “I’m… it’s interesting. I don’t know anything much about being a lawyer.” She sat slowly in one of the barstools. “And you mentioned an older sister?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes. And a younger sister. And a younger brother.”

Piper’s eyes widened further. “ _Three_ siblings?” 

Cullen chuckled tiredly. “Yes. It is rather overwhelming. Not that I’m - don’t get me wrong,” he amended hastily, “I’m very fond of my family. But I will admit to being… grateful, also, that they live in the South Reach. A bit of distance gives a good excuse against weekly visits.”

Piper nodded, then watched as Cullen slid two trays of cookies into the oven. When he turned back to face her, his expression was curious. “What about you, Piper? You’ve said very little. Do you have a large family? I understand that… Hawke mentioned you’re from a Free Marcher clan.”

_Bloody Hawke,_ Piper thought fondly. She’d probably been singing Piper’s praises to Cullen. “Sort of,” she said. “Dalish elves who live in the Free Marches don’t really consider ourselves ‘Free Marchers’, though. That’s kind of a human thing.” 

Cullen’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Piper waved him off. “It’s fine,” she said. “I get what you mean, anyway. And yes, my clan is based in the Free Marches.”

Cullen hummed an acknowledgement, then began scooping dough for the next tray of cookies. “And… I hope it’s not prying to ask, but… may I ask why you’re not with your clan?”

Piper hesitated. She appreciated Cullen’s delicacy, but this was exactly what she’d feared: questions about her family and her travels - questions that would poke at her hidden wounds and make her vulnerable again. 

She could gloss over the truth, or give him half of it: tell him that she was stretching her wings, seeing more of the world before returning to her clan. But for some reason, she didn’t want to lie to Cullen. 

She supposed her pause had been too long, however, because Cullen spoke again. “You don’t have to answer,” he said gently. “I don’t mean to pry.”

Piper shot him an apologetic glance. “And I don’t mean to be cagey. I just, uh… it’s… well, it’s not even complicated, really.” She trailed off awkwardly, and Cullen was silent too while he finished arranging another tray of cookies. 

Then Piper took a deep breath. “My dad died of a stroke about a year and a half ago,” she said in a rush. “He was my only family. After he died, I just went travelling and… never stopped. Until I got here.” She waved toward the living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows, then offered Cullen a sickly smile. “We’ll see how long Kirkwall sticks. So far so good, though. I like it here. More than I thought I would.”

Cullen’s eyebrows were tilted with sympathy, but to Piper’s vast relief, his response was kind without being coddling. “I’m very sorry for your loss. But I’m glad you had the chance to travel,” he said. “Travelling is a privilege I haven’t enjoyed much, I’m sorry to say.”

Piper smiled at him. “Well, if you’re ever planning a road trip, I can tell you all the best and worst dive bars from here to Llomeryn.”

Cullen’s face slackened with surprise. “Llomeryn? That’s - I’m impressed! You really did travel far in just over a year.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s easy if you never stay two nights in the same place. For the most part, at least.” 

His wide eyes widened even further. “Maker’s breath,” he said. “That’s… what was that like?”

She smiled more broadly still. She knew Cullen was older than her by at least five years - probably closer to ten, if she was honest. But from the look of open wonder on his face, she’d have thought she was the older one. 

She rested her elbows comfortably on the counter. “It was fun,” she said. “It was… a whirlwind. Time seems to go by so fast when you’re constantly on the move, and I saw so many amazing things that my phone was almost completely full of photos by the time I - well.” She’d almost said before her phone was stolen by Peronn and Duncan and Maara, but she stopped herself at the last minute. 

Cullen tilted his head curiously at her abrupt pause, but Piper doggedly pushed on. “I ate some of the most amazing food of my life on those travels,” she said. “The seafood on the Antivan coast especially was… Creators, it was amazing. And my favourite wine in the world is from Seleny. I don’t even really like wine, but their red wine is just…” She shook her head at the memory, then perked up. “I actually talked my boss into stocking it at the Hanged Man. You should try it next time you come by!” 

Then she faltered to a stop. “Er, I mean…” She ducked her head and twisted a strand of silvery hair around her finger. It was probably too bold of her to assume he would stop by the Hanged Man again. 

“I would love to,” Cullen said. “I would certainly trust your judgment in wine more than my own. I prefer beer, myself.”

Piper lifted her chin to meet his gaze, and her heart kicked into gear as she eyed the subtle crinkles at the corners of his smiling eyes. “Then you’re in luck,” she said. “There’s a great amber ale from Bastion that’s to die for. I’ll show you that sometime as well.”

“I look forward to it,” he said.

Piper smiled at him, then laughed breathlessly and tucked her hair behind her ear again. Then the cookie timer went off.

Cullen turned away to pull the cookies from the oven, and Piper nibbled her lower lip. Gods, he was so nice. And so polite. And handsome, and easy to talk to, and… 

And she was talking herself up, wasn’t she? She definitely was. That insidious little voice of caution was hissing at the back of her mind, but as Piper watched Cullen arranging the cookie sheets on hot plates and placing the next two trays into the oven, that negative little voice in her mind was being drowned out, covered up by the seriousness in Cullen’s expression and the charming scar on his lip and his confidence as he moved around the kitchen… 

Piper opened her mouth. “Cullen, do you want to go out with me sometime?”

His eyes shot up to her face, and his cheeks turned pink. “I - of course - yes,” he stammered. “Yes, I - that would be - I would like that very much, Piper.”

She beamed at him, relieved and excited in equal measure. “Good,” she said. “Good. So, uh, I’ll… can I text you my number?”

“Of course,” he said. Piper pulled her phone from her pocket, and Cullen listed off his number for her. 

She sent him a text, then looked up to find him grinning at her. His cheeks and ears were flushed and he looked so happy, and Piper _felt_ so happy, and… gods, she was a hopeless mess. 

She laughed giddily, and Cullen chuckled. “Shall we try one of these cookies that we baked?” he asked. 

“That _you_ baked,” Piper corrected. “We both know I did jack shit to help you.”

Cullen burst out a little laugh, and Piper grinned at him. “I won’t refute you there,” he said. Then he used a spatula to carefully lift a cookie from the tray before offering it to Piper. 

“Thank you, counsellor,” she said playfully. 

He smiled, and Piper admired those lovely fine lines at the corners of his eyes. “You’re very welcome,” he said. He helped himself to a cookie, then came to sit on the barstool beside her. 

She smiled at him, and he smiled back at her, and Piper enjoyed the heat at the tips of her ears as she took a bite of her cookie. As she enjoyed the soft and slightly crispy texture, she realized that Hawke was right. 

Cookies really did taste better when their many elements had some time to mix and melt together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piper Lavellan belongs to the beautiful [Schoute on Tumblr](http://schoute.tumblr.com/). Follow her for some gorgeous Cullavellan and Fenhawke art, and for all that Good Dragon Age Shit™.


	5. Take Your Time

The next morning, at some ungodly hour of the morning, Piper was woken by the chirp of her phone. 

“Fucking _fenedhis,_ ” she groaned. She buried her face in the comfort of her pillow. Whoever dared to text her this early after the Saturday night shift had better have a damned good reason. 

She reached blindly toward the nightstand and fumbled until her fingers found her phone, then dragged the phone into her bed and pried open her eyelids to check the screen. 

An instant later, she was sitting bolt upright in bed with a grin on her face. The texts were from Cullen.

 **8:00am - Good morning, Piper. I wanted to thank you again for the cookies and for your hospitality yesterday. I would love to speak soon and arrange for our date. Please let me know the best time to call you.**  
**8:00am - If you are still interested.**  
**8:01am - This is Cullen Rutherford, by the way.**

She was laughing by the time she read the third text. Gods, he was just so fucking precious: so formal and brisk at first, almost like he was drafting a memo at work. But Piper could just picture how red his ears must have been after he’d sent the third text. 

“You know you’re in my contacts, you nerd,” she told the screen fondly. “You don’t have to introduce yourself.” She typed out a reply.

_8:05am - good morning counsellor ;)_  
_8:05am - you’re lucky you’re so handsome, i usually murder anyone who texts me this early after a worknight_

The texts swished away. Within seconds, the typing-ellipsis appeared on her screen to herald his incoming response. 

**8:05am - Maker’s breath. I am so sorry. I completely forgot.**  
**8:05am - This was incredibly inconsiderate of me. I’m**  
**8:05am - My apologies. I will let you return to sleep. Please let me know of a more appropriate time to contact you.**

Piper grinned as she read his responses. She was still giggling by the time she sent her replies.

_8:05am - HAHAHA its fine its fine!! i’m awake now XD_  
_8:06am - i don’t mind a text from you_  
_8:06am - its a lovely way to wake up actually ^_^_

**8:06am - Are you certain? I don’t wish to intrude on your sleep. I am truly sorry.**

_8:06am - haha stop apologizing! it’s fine, i promise_  
_8:06am - you got me wide awake with your mention of a date_  
_8:06am - and yes, i am still interested… ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

**8:06am - I am pleased to hear that. I didn’t want to assume.**  
**8:06am - Might I call you later to arrange something more concrete?**

Piper smirked at her phone. How adorably old-fashioned. What was with him and wanting to call? What was wrong with texting? 

_8:06am - you don’t need to call, its ok! we can arrange by text_

His response took a bit longer this time, and she watched with growing intrigue as the typing-ellipsis appeared, then disappeared, then appeared once more. 

**8:07am - I would like to call you, if you aren’t opposed.**

A swooping warmth filled her belly. His words seemed… bold, somehow. She hastily typed out a response, cursing her fat thumbs as she corrected the worst of her typos before sending.

 _8:07am - why? do you miss the sweet sweet sound of my voice? ;)_

His typing stopped and started twice, then disappeared completely for an agonizing twenty seconds before he finished his reply. 

**8:08am - More than I should admit.**

Piper’s jaw dropped. Now _that_... for Cullen, that seemed extremely bold. Her phone fell from her fingers to her lap as she pressed her hands to her warm and grinning cheeks. How the hell was it possible for five little words to make her feel so fucking giddy?

A minute later, when she was finished giggling like an infantile _da’len_ , she picked up her phone and snuggled back into her blankets. She happily reread his texts a few more times, then hovered her thumb over the ‘call’ button. 

A rush of nerves jangled in her chest as she studied her screen. Calling him was a big deal - a much bigger deal than texting. Texting was easy and fun. Calling was… momentous, somehow. Was she sure about this? 

_I don’t know,_ she thought. But her eyes traced over his bold words - _more than I should admit_ \- and before she could think about it further, her thumb was firmly pressing the ‘call’ button. 

The phone started to ring. With slightly trembling fingers, she lifted the phone to her pointed ear.

Cullen picked up after two rings. Piper heard the subtle sound of a throat clear before he spoke. “This is Cullen,” he said officiously. 

Piper grinned and instantly started to relax. He’d most certainly seen her name on his caller ID, and still he was being all lawyer-ish? He must really be flustered. More so than her, even.

“Hello, counsellor,” she purred.

“Piper!” His officious tone disappeared, replaced by a much warmer and slightly nervous lilt. “How are you? Tired, I’m sure - again, I am… that is, I apologize-”

“Stop,” she laughed. “Stop with the apologies, or you’ll put me back to sleep. How are _you?_ ”

He cleared his throat softly. “I’m very well, thank you. I, er…” 

He trailed off, and Piper waited with growing amusement until he spoke again. “I had hoped to have something… better planned to say when we spoke on the phone,” he admitted.

She laughed. “So _that’s_ why you wanted to schedule a time to talk. Do you always plan your phone calls?”

His chuckle floated through the phone and warmed her ear. “I do usually schedule them into my day, yes. You grow accustomed to planning your time very carefully when you work in law. This is probably the most spontaneous phone call I’ve made in years.”

 _Ah, right,_ Piper thought. She had heard something about lawyers needing to parse their work time into billable minutes. It sounded like a stressful way to live. 

Well, Cullen didn’t sound very stressed right now, and Piper was certainly feeling relaxed and happy. She rolled onto her back and smiled into the phone. “I hate to point this out, but you didn’t make this call,” she told him cheekily. “I did.”

“You did, didn’t you?” he replied. “You do seem to catch me off guard.” His voice was warm with a curl of humour, and Piper bit her lip at the lovely sound. 

“I’ll consider it my honorary job to keep you on your toes,” she said. “Shake up your routine, you know.”

“You’re doing a fine job of that so far,” he drawled.

Piper laughed. There was a brief lull in the conversation, a pause that was loaded and warm, and Piper nibbled the inside of her cheek as she waited for him to speak again. 

He cleared his throat again. “So… Piper, I feel I should warn you. To be perfectly truthful, I… it has been a long time since I’ve been on a date. My last few dates were bundled in with work, I’m sorry to say.” 

“Bundled in with work?” Piper wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“Not so much, no,” he said. Then hastily he added, “I mean, that’s not to say - my dates themselves weren’t boring people, they - it’s not that at all. It…” He sighed. “I simply mean that it’s been a long time since I met anyone outside of my circle. I’m not certain of the, er, protocol when one isn’t socializing with other… legal professionals.”

Piper smirked and rolled onto her belly. “Protocol, you say?” she teased. “Do you usually follow protocol when you go on dates? A guidebook, perhaps? No wonder those other dates were no fun.”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen muttered, and Piper laughed. 

Then Cullen doggedly spoke through her chuckling. “What I’m trying rather poorly to say is that I haven’t met anyone quite like you in a long time,” he said. “I… I would like to do this right.” 

Piper ducked her head shyly, even though Cullen couldn’t see her. The phone was feeling awfully warm against her cheek. “Well,” she said softly. “You’re off to a good start. But there’s no protocol, all right? Just be yourself.”

He huffed softly into the phone. “Unfortunately, being myself usually means spending the night at home with a pile of legal briefs. I doubt that that would interest you.”

 _Aw,_ she thought with a surge of tenderness. He really didn’t know how to loosen up, did he? Well, Piper would fix that. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got just the thing,” she said. “What are you doing Thursday night?”

“Nothing I can’t cancel,” Cullen said, and Piper smiled. Already his voice sounded less tense. Taking charge of the situation was definitely the right thing for her to do. 

“Perfect. We’re going to a concert,” she announced. “Have you ever heard of Blightfall?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said. 

Piper grinned. He was really in for a fun surprise, then. “Good,” she chirped. “I’ll text you the details. And Cullen?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t wear a tie.”

*****************************

Thursday couldn’t come fast enough for Piper’s liking. 

She and Cullen didn’t speak on the phone again, and the one time Cullen came to the Hanged Man to meet with Hawke was on the Wednesday when Piper happened to be off. But he texted her each afternoon around lunchtime: brief and polite little messages enquiring about details of their date. _Should I wear anything specific? May I pick you up at home, or will we be walking? Should I bring earplugs?_

She recognized the messages for what they were: excuses to be in touch. And Piper appreciated them more than she could say. When she was younger and stupider, she used to secretly enjoy the drama of waiting on tenterhooks for a boy to text her back. But the extreme drama of Peronn’s treatment seemed to have beaten more out of her than just her breath, and there was something very comforting about Cullen’s reliable messages.

The earplugs question made her laugh out loud, though. When she received that one on Wednesday, she couldn’t help but read it out to Hawke. 

Hawke snickered. “Is he serious?”

“I honestly can’t tell,” Piper replied. “He never uses emojis.”

Hawke raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? Not ever? Damn, is he ever proper.” She leaned away from her laptop and propped her chin thoughtfully on her fist. “If he’s so proper with his texting, I wonder what he’ll be like in bed? Do you think he’ll be all polite when he’s stripping you? Like, ‘oh Piper, may I remove your shirt? Would it be all right if I touch your-’”

“Ew,” Piper yelled. “Stop narrating my imaginary sex life, you perv.”

Hawke burst into raucous laughter. Piper laughed as well and threw a couch cushion at her head, but in truth, the mere mention of sex with Cullen set her heart to racing - not just with excitement, but with anxiety too. 

It had been five months since she’d been intimate with anyone. The last person she’d even touched in any kind of affectionate capacity was Hawke, and Hawke was the touchy-feely one who usually initiated their friendly hugs. It was one thing to idly fantasize about banging Cullen when he was just a handsome stranger at the bar, but he was so much more than that now. He was bashful and earnest and kind, and he had a wry sense of humour, and… 

He was just so fucking real. So solid and tangible even through the distance of her phone screen, even just as words in her messaging app or a voice in her ear. And the realness of him was somehow both comforting and terrifying all at once. 

But she was getting ahead of herself. They hadn’t even been on their first real date yet. There was no point wondering or worrying about sex when they hadn’t even been on an actual date, and who knew what could happen? Maybe it would go really badly and they’d never want to see each other again. Either way, whatever was going to happen would happen, and there was no point worrying about it.

 _Nope, no point worrying,_ she firmly told herself. And for the rest of the day and night until Thursday evening rolled around, that was the mantra that Piper repeated in her head. She repeated it to herself as she showered and hastily blow-dried her wild mass of hair, and she repeated it to herself as she slapped on her makeup, and she repeated it to herself as Isabela poured her a pre-date shot of Soho. 

“Bottoms up, sweets,” Isabela announced. “Here’s to getting lucky.” She winked salaciously at Piper and bolted back her own shot. 

Piper gulped down the lychee-flavoured liquor, then grinned at Isabela as she placed the shot glass in the sink. “No need for that,” she said. “I make my own luck.” She checked the pockets of her faded shorts one last time - _lip balm, phone and essential cards, check_ \- then cheerfully waved to Isabela and traipsed out the door. 

She was meeting Cullen at the concert venue. It was a place called Haven, which used to be an old church that burned down a few years ago and was rebuilt and renovated into a club and concert hall. It was conveniently located right between Isabela’s and Cullen’s condos, and Piper had figured to keep things casual by meeting him there. 

By the time she was halfway to Haven, however, she was regretting not asking Cullen to pick her up at Isabela’s place after all. Every step closer to the venue was heightening her sense of nervous anticipation, and she’d forgotten that it might be difficult to spot Cullen in the crowd that tended to congregate at Haven before a concert began. 

As it turned out, she needn’t have worried, because Cullen stuck out like a sore thumb. She instantly spotted him standing under a streetlight a short ways away from the main crowd. As per her suggestion, he wasn’t wearing a tie, but his tucked-in pale pink dress shirt was by no means casual even with the sleeves rolled up. He was almost certainly the only person here with no piercings or tats. And most noticeably of all, he was the only person in the enthusiastically chattering crowd who looked frankly apprehensive. 

A burst of fondness chased away her nerves, and she shamelessly ran the last few steps to his side. He spotted her an instant before she reached him, and by the time she skidded into place beside him, he was smiling broadly. 

“Piper,” he said. His hand hovered over the middle of her back in a very gentle greeting. “I’m - how are you? You look lovely, as always.” 

She beamed at him. He was barely touching her back, but the suggestion of a touch was already sending a fizz of happy bubbles through her belly. “So do you,” she said. “But I told you to dress casual!”

He winced and scratched the back of his neck. “This is about as casual as I get,” he said. 

She raised one eyebrow. “Are you serious? You don’t have a single t-shirt?”

“Not unless you count workout clothes or undershirts,” he said wryly. “I thought it would be inappropriate to wear underwear as outerwear. But… it seems I was mistaken.” He glanced around at the crowd, and Piper grinned; half the girls were wearing bralettes for tops, and Cullen’s idea of an undershirt would probably be right at home with the tank tops that many of the guys were wearing. 

She laughed. “It’s okay,” she said happily. “At least you know to wear your underwear as outerwear next time. I certainly wouldn’t complain.” She winked at him as they joined the milling line of people waiting to get inside the club. 

He huffed in amusement as they shuffled indoors, and Piper admired the pinkening of his cheeks in the glow of the streetlights. She led him into the venue and toward the main dance floor facing the stage, and as they moved through the club, she noticed that he was looking around curiously as though he’d never been here before. 

“Have you never seen a show here before?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “No, never. I was here when the original church burned down, but I haven’t been inside since it became this.” 

She propped her fists on her hips. “And?” she said. “What do you think? Do you like it better as a church or a club?”

He tilted his head thoughtfully, and Piper waited with growing curiosity for him to speak. She’d asked him more as a joke, but the longer he hesitated before speaking, the more Piper realized that the question might be more complex than she’d intended. 

She pulled a little face. “Sorry. Was that rude? I didn’t mean to be…”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s not rude at all. It’s a very good question.” He gazed at the stage where the opening act was setting up their gear. “When this was a church, I used to come for the Sunday services, when I had the time,” he told her. “This is… very different.” 

Piper nodded slowly. She’d suspected he was Andrastian, but she hadn’t been sure until now. “Do you miss it being a church?” she asked.

“Not particularly,” he said thoughtfully. “I… I think this is better. The church was quite beautiful, and very old. But this, the energy here… It’s refreshing. A different perspective, and a good one.” His pensive gaze slid over her face. “I wouldn’t have thought of coming here on my own.” 

She nibbled the inside of her cheek to quell her stupid grin, then bumped him affably with her arm. “Well, I’ll be happy to bring you here anytime. _If_ you like this concert, that is.” 

“I’m sure I will,” he said. His gaze was still steady on her face. 

Piper grinned and idly ruffled her hair. Then there was a rise of cheering and applause, and she looked up to see the opening act making their way onto the stage. 

The shaven-headed elven lead singer introduced the band as Veilfire, and there was a roar of approval and clapping as they started their first number. Piper wholeheartedly joined in the cheering, then turned and smiled at Cullen. “Do you want a drink?” she yelled over the music. 

He shook his head. His eyes were wide as he looked at the other concert-goers, who were already frothing with excitement from the opening act alone. “No, thank you,” he yelled back. “Should we find a seat? Is there, er, anywhere to sit…?”

Piper shook her head. “There’s seating on the upper level,” she shouted. “But that’s boring! This is where all the best stuff happens!”

“Like what?” Cullen asked. 

Piper grinned at him. “Dancing, of course!” she shouted. Then she whooped in excitement and started jumping along with the rest of the crowd as the band launched into a raucous chorus. 

By the end of the song, the main floor area was almost packed with swaying and cheering bodies. Piper panted for breath and grinned up at Cullen.

He looked totally bewildered. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and his eyes were huge and round as he studied the crowd. 

Piper gently grasped his forearm, then rose on her tiptoes so she could speak more closely to his ear. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. 

He smiled ruefully at her. “This is all very new to me,” he replied. “I’ve never been to a concert like this before.” 

Piper glanced around. The crowd was undoubtedly enthusiastic, but it was no different than any other concert she’d been to.

She smiled playfully at him. “What kind of concerts were _you_ going to?”

He smiled more broadly, then ran a hand through his hair. “Well… to tell you the truth, I’ve never been to any rock concerts before,” he confessed.

“Seriously?” she blurted. “This is your first concert? But you’re thirty-something!” Then she slapped her hands over her mouth and wrinkled her nose at her own thoughtlessness.

Cullen laughed. “Yes, thank you for the reminder.”

She shook her head, then pulled her hand away from her stupid mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she yelled. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m just surprised!” Then she stumbled against him as Veilfire started their next number and the crowd surged into activity again. 

He grasped her elbow until she found her balance. He leaned in close, and his voice against her cheekbone sent a shiver down her spine. “Can you even see the stage?” he asked. “You’re not very tall.”

She turned her head slightly, and her heart fluttered with excitement at the closeness of his face to hers. She smiled at him. “Not really,” she said. “But it’s okay!”

“It’s okay that you can’t see the band?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” she said. “This just the opener. When Blightfall come out, I’ll just jump higher so I can see them.” She laughed at the skeptical look on his face, then demonstrated by jumping and cheering enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd.

The opening act did a few more songs before stopping to pack up for the main event, and Piper wiped her dewy forehead and smiled at Cullen. “Are you feeling more settled in now?” she asked. 

He chuckled. “Am I failing that badly at fitting in here?”

She elbowed him chidingly. “That’s not what I mean. I want you to have a good time,” she said. He still looked so formal with his hands in his pockets and his perfect posture, and Piper was starting to worry that maybe a concert _wasn’t_ the best way to get him to relax. 

“I am,” he protested. “I’m having a very good time.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, but his expression was open and warm. “All right,” she said. “But you let me know if you want to leave. I promise I won’t mind. I’ve seen this band playing before.”

His eyes widened. “You have?” 

“Yeah! They’re a great local act,” Piper explained. “Sera and Dagna are super entertaining, you’ll see. Oh, I think they’re coming on-” 

She was drowned out by a cacophonous wave of screaming and applause and foot-stomping as Blightfall ran out onto the stage. Piper cupped her hands around her mouth and howled her support, then started madly dancing with the rest of the crowd as Sera’s unique shrill voice launched into the first number. 

Within the space of the first few songs, the room was suffused with energy and sweat. Piper tossed her head and yelled along to the chorus, then turned to Cullen. “You okay?” she hollered. He’d been standing passively beside her the entire time so far, moving slightly with the rowdy ebb and flow of the crowd. He reminded her of a strand of seaweed shifting powerlessly with the ocean waves, and she was still concerned that he wasn’t enjoying himself.

He tilted his head at her and gave her a chiding look. “Piper, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” 

“I’m not worrying,” she protested, while studying his face worriedly. “I’m just-”

He brushed a damp curl of her hair over her left ear. “I’m fine,” he said firmly. “Keep on dancing.” 

She stared at him breathlessly. The unexpected touch of his hand left a tingling thrill over her temple, and her heart was suddenly thrumming a lively beat in her throat.

The warm look on his face dropped into embarrassment. “I - I’m sorry,” he stammered.

She smiled at him. “Don’t be,” she yelled. Then she stumbled right into his chest as a jumping pair of guys lost their balance and slammed into her back. 

They yelled some slurred apologies in her direction before leaping away, but Piper ignored them; Cullen’s hands were firm on her arms, and her palms were pressed to his chest, and she could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. 

His eyebrows were creased with concern. “Are you all right?” he shouted. 

She could smell him. He smelled like leather somehow, and a slightly spicy aftershave, and underneath it all, a warm and primal scent that could only be his slightly sweaty skin.

Her bare belly was touching his belt. She could feel the buckle against her skin. 

_Fuck,_ she wanted him. 

Desire and excitement and an undeniable rush of panic roiled together in her belly, and she said the first thing she could come up with. “Dance with me!” she blurted.

His face slackened in shock, then twisted with anxiety. “ _Oh._ Er, no, I-”

She grinned and took his hands in hers. “Come on, dance with me a little! It’s fun!” 

His eyes darted around the crowd. “I - no, I don’t dance-” 

She squeezed his hands reassuringly, then swayed and twisted her hips to the music. He shot her a pleading look, and she grinned at him until his lips lifted in a reluctant smile. 

“I’m terrible at this,” he yelled.

“You’re not,” she yelled back. And he really wasn’t terrible. He was just _stiff_. But at the mere thought of the word ‘stiff’, Piper’s one-track mind could only conjure one specific kind of stiffening. 

She shunted the thought away by dancing even more enthusiastically, jumping around and tossing her hair while still holding Cullen’s hands, and when he laughed and shook his head, it only encouraged her to dance more wildly still. 

When the song was over, the band paused for a moment to shout obscenities and jokes at the crowd, and Piper stood on her tiptoes again and placed her hand on Cullen’s shoulder. “Let’s go outside,” she said in his ear. “Get some fresh air!”

He pulled away slightly to frown at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, then took his hand and pulled him toward the exit. Once they were outside, he heaved a sigh. “Maker, my ears are ringing,” he said. “I should have brought those earplugs after all.” He grinned at her. 

She laughed merrily. “I couldn’t decide if you were joking about that.”

He chuckled. “Half-joking, certainly. But a break was a good suggestion.” He ran a hand through his slightly-curling hair, then toyed idly with the top button of his shirt, and Piper watched with interest to see if he would unbutton it. 

When he dropped his hand back to his side without undoing the button, she was both amused and unsurprised. She leaned against the wall and coquettishly tilted her head. “So? Tell me the truth. Are you enjoying this, really?”

“Yes. I am,” he insisted when she tilted her head even more. “I’m very happy we came here. Whether I would do this again, however, what with the risk to my hearing and all…” 

He was smirking, and Piper laughed and punched him lightly in the arm. “I knew it. You’re putting on a brave face for me.” 

He folded his arms and gave her an appraising little smile. “Somehow I think that dealing with you requires a great deal of bravery.” 

She grinned. “They don’t call me Rowdy Piper Lavellan for nothing,” she said cheerfully. Then she flicked his arm and pushed away from the wall of the club. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

His raised his eyebrows. “But what about… you don’t want to see the rest of the concert?”

“Nah,” she said. “I’ve seen them before, remember? Let’s enjoy the weather. It’s so nice out.” In truth, now that Piper was alone with him in the relative quiet of the summer night, she didn’t want to go back inside.

“All right,” Cullen said, and he fell into step beside her. 

Piper tucked her hands in the pockets of her shorts and smiled up at her handsome companion. “So explain to me why you’ve never been to a concert.”

“School kept me very busy,” he said. “I went straight to law school after completing my undergrad degree. Not that that’s an excuse, really…” He shrugged and trailed off. 

Piper raised her eyebrows. “How many years is a law degree?”

“Three years,” he said. 

“Wow,” Piper said softly. “So four years for undergrad, and then another three… That’s a long time to be in school. You must have been the golden boy of your class.” 

He laughed. “I wanted to be. I wasn’t always successful. You wouldn’t believe the piles of books and readings and case studies we had to review. I admit, my mind sometimes wandered.” 

“You? A wandering mind? I can’t imagine,” Piper teased. 

He chuckled. “My attention is much more focused now, I assure you,” he said. 

Piper rubbed her nose to hide her smile. She was sure he didn’t mean it, but there was something about his sentence that seemed somehow laced with innuendo. 

“And you really didn’t find time for anything but schoolwork during all that time?” she asked. 

“Actually, I was on the varsity rugby team during my undergrad,” he said. “Well, during part of it, at least. Between rugby and my schoolwork, and eventually my internships, there was very little time for anything else.”

Piper tilted her head curiously. “Why only during part of your degree?” 

He twisted his lips regretfully. “I was injured during my junior year. A Torn ACL. Knee injury,” he explained when Piper frowned in confusion. “It’s not an uncommon injury, but it is a long recovery, and the consequences can be lifelong. In my case, it meant I couldn’t return to the team.”

Piper frowned in sympathy. “Shit. That really sucks. I’m sorry, Cullen.” 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “But it was many years ago, now. And truth be told, I don’t really miss it. It’s unlikely I would still be playing today. Rugby is a young man’s game.”

Piper scoffed and lightly smacked his arm. “You _are_ a young man.” 

“Not as young as you,” he replied. 

There was a slightly loaded silence. Then Piper snickered and shot him a sly look. “I’m twenty-four, in case you were wondering.”

He lifted his hands in protest. “I wasn’t going to ask. It’s been some time since I dated anyone, but I know enough not to ask that.” 

“Well, I’m not nearly as polite,” Piper chirped. “How old are you?”

He coughed out a surprised little laugh before replying. “I’m thirty-four.”

She nodded in acknowledgement. She’d suspected as much. Truth be told, she didn’t really care how old he was. 

Then something occurred to her. Her gaze dropped to his lips. “Is that how you got that scar on your lip, too? A rugby injury?”

He reached up and rubbed his mouth at the mention of the scar. “Yes,” he said. “The same incident as the knee injury, in fact. It was an eventful game, to say the least.”

“I bet,” Piper said softly. Then she smiled at him. “Well, I think your scar is very handsome.”

He chuckled, and Piper fondly watched the predictable reddening of his cheeks. “Well, I… that is, er. Thank you,” he said. He cleared his throat and glanced at her.

Piper wilted very slightly as his eyes traced over her bisected left eyebrow. As expected, his next question pertained to her face. “And you?” he asked. “May I ask how you got your scars?”

She smiled and dredged up her usual excuse. “Bar fight,” she said pertly. “Got on the wrong side of a guy’s fist. But it’s okay, he got on the wrong side of my foot.” 

Cullen’s jaw dropped in horror. “You’re not serious.”

“Sure I am,” she said. “I told you, I’m the queen of dive bars. Sometimes a girl’s got to defend her honour with her fists.”

He gaped at her for a moment longer, and Piper felt a pang of guilt. He looked so damned worried. Imagine how horrified he’d be if she told him what had actually happened. 

She patted his arm. “It’s okay, Cullen. It was a long time ago,” she fibbed. “I wasn’t really hurt.”

He frowned. “I’m familiar with how facial wounds heal. Yours are not that old,” he said. “That bar fight happened, what, six months ago? Maybe less?”

“Something like that,” she said vaguely. She could practically see him putting on his lawyer face as she spoke. She glanced away from him and tugged at one of her braided bracelets. “Honestly, it was… all right, fine, it wasn’t that long ago. But it’s fine,” she insisted. “And nobody messes with me anymore, not with a face that looks like this.” She sneered up at him in an exaggerated grimace. 

He scoffed at her silly expression, but his amusement swiftly melted back into seriousness. “And it was you who started this bar fight?”

“Yeah,” she said cagily. She plucked at her bracelets, then smiled brightly at him. “Are you hungry? There’s a shawarma place nearby that I love.” 

“Oh,” he said blankly. “Yes, I… I suppose I could eat.”

Relieved and triumphant at having distracted him, she led him along the street toward her favourite shawarma stand. “This place has the best shawarma I’ve ever had. And that’s saying something.”

Cullen raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “That’s some high praise indeed.” He gave her a curious look. “You’ve told me of your travels, but I’m curious about your life before that. I confess I don’t know many Dalish.”

Piper tucked her hands in her pockets and smirked. “Do you know any Dalish?”

He coughed self-consciously. “Er, no, in fact. Aside from you.” 

She laughed and elbowed him lightly. “That’s all right. We do keep to ourselves, after all. What do you want to know?”

“Everything, really,” he said. “But I suppose… schooling. You know I was in school for years. Too many years, perhaps. What about you?”

Piper nodded. It was a good question. “Well, our schooling isn’t really like how you humans do things,” she said. “We travel a lot, so we don’t have classrooms or whatever. We kind of learn while we travel, and from what I’ve heard, the way we do things is more… practical, I guess? We still learn the same basic things as humans and city elves: math, geography, history, all that. But we learn it while we’re foraging or hunting or building the caravans and stuff instead of sitting at a desk and taking notes. And we focus on Elvish as a second language instead of, say, Orlesian.” She shrugged. “Keeper Deshanna said some clans are more fluent in Elvish, so they actually speak and teach their kids in Elvish rather than in common tongue. I’m kind of glad that common is my first language, though. More useful, you know? My Elvish is pretty shitty, actually.” She pulled a little face and ruffled her hair, which was steadily growing wilder with the humidity. 

She looked up at Cullen, then grinned. “What’s up? Why are you staring at me like that?”

He closed his mouth. “I… it’s fascinating, that’s all,” he said. “Your life sounds so different than mine.”

She shrugged. “If you’d met any other Dalish before, they would probably tell you the same thing I’m saying.”

“I don’t think so,” Cullen said. His tone was oddly insistent, and Piper looked up to find him gazing at her very seriously. “I’ve been living here for over ten years, and you are the first Dalish I’ve ever met,” he said. “I think that says something special about _you._ ” 

She smirked and dropped her eyes. “Heh. Some of my clanmates would say it makes me a flat-ear.” 

He frowned more deeply. “What does that mean?” 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a Dalish derogatory term for another Dalish person who leaves the clan to go live in the city. But that’s fuckin’ dumb, you know? There’s nothing wrong with travelling around and learning new things from new people.” She shrugged. “You could even say it would benefit the clan to learn things from other places and bring that knowledge back to the clan. That’s what Deshanna said when I left. She thought the travelling was a good idea.” Piper scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “To be fair, she also assumed I would go back eventually, and, well… at this point, who knows. Maybe I won’t go back. Then I really will be a flat-ear.” She dropped her hands to her sides and smirked at Cullen again.

His gaze on her face was so focused. A jolt of nerves ran down her throat at the intensity of his attention. She laughed a little and plucked at her bracelets. “What?” 

He studied her for another moment before speaking. “Whether or not you go back to your clan someday, I’m glad you’re here now,” he said softly. 

She swallowed hard, then met his eyes once more. “So am I,” she whispered. 

A small, warm smile lifted the corner of his scarred lip, and Piper could feel her own marred lips curling in response. Then Cullen waved a gallant hand toward the street. “How much farther to this world-famous shawarma stand?” he asked. 

“I don’t know about world-famous,” Piper quipped. “Ferelden-and-Free-Marches-famous, sure, but world-famous? I think I’d need to do a bit more travelling to find that out.”

Cullen chuckled, and Piper smiled at him, and they continued on their way to the shawarma stand.

They spent the rest of the night talking and walking around the city. Cullen asked her more questions about clan life and about her own youth in particular, and Piper took no small delight in regaling him with some of her wilder stories of clandestine teenage parties in the woods and trying to make moonshine with her friends. She told him about her archery lessons and the bow her father had taught her to make, and which she’d regretfully left behind when she’d left her clan. Eventually she asked Cullen to tell her more about his schooling and his family, and she laughed at his tales of the childhood pranks he’d both suffered and orchestrated. 

The night stretched out before them like warm caramel, and the conversation was just as delicious as the shawarma. By the time they had meandered from Hightown to Lowtown and back again, it was past one, and the streets of Hightown were almost silent. 

As they drew close to Isabela’s condo building, Piper slowed down until she was nearly dragging her feet. She knew it was late, and she knew that Cullen had to work tomorrow, but she wasn’t ready to go back inside yet. This date had been… 

Damn it, this had been the perfect first date. And Piper wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet.

Finally they were standing in front of her building. Piper twisted her fingers in a curl of hair and idly shuffled her booted toe on the pavement. 

“Well,” Cullen said softly. 

Piper nibbled the inside of her cheek, then shot him a furtive glance. The look on his face was so soft, and he was studying her carefully as though she was something truly unique, and… Creators, she didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her this way in her life. 

She could barely think. That look on Cullen’s face was scrambling her brains. She nodded sagely. “Uh, yeah,” she said, then immediately wanted to smack herself for her inanity. 

“Piper, listen,” he said. “Your face. The… the scars. They’re not from a bar fight, are they?” 

She took a deep breath and dropped her eyes. “Not exactly.”

He was silent for a long moment, and Piper eventually lifted her eyes to his face. He looked calm and serious instead of worried or angry on her behalf, and the neutrality of his expression somehow made her feel calmer as well. 

“I do want to know the story,” he said softly. “But it’s your story to tell. I won’t press you. You can tell me if and when you want to. Just… take your time.”

She nervously licked her lips, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Um… okay. I’ll… think about it.”

He nodded. “In the meantime, you should know that I think…” He cleared his throat, and Piper watched curiously as his cheeks pinkened again. 

He took a deep breath and met her eyes. Despite the pinkness of his cheeks, his gaze was steady. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “The scars don’t change that.”

Piper’s cheeks instantly went hot. Fuck, now _she_ was the blushing one. She ducked her head and tugged her ear. “Thanks,” she squeaked. 

“You’re very welcome,” he murmured.

Piper twisted her fingers in her hair and darted him a shy smile. He smiled back at her and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Well,” he said again.

He shuffled his feet, and Piper smiled more widely. Clearly he was just as reluctant to leave as she was, and that thought was comforting enough to wipe away her shyness. 

She lifted her chin boldly and ignored the residual warmth in her cheeks. “We should do this again soon,” she said.

He smiled. “I would like that.”

“Me too,” she said as she stared at his lip. Gods, his smile was just so yummy.

He chuckled softly. “You said that.” 

She bit her lip, then met his eyes. “Well, I meant it,” she said.

He stared at her without replying, and she gazed back into his warm chocolatey eyes. The longer she looked at him, the more the smile faded from his face to become something much more heated and heavy, and that heat and weight were filling her chest and making it hard to breathe…

She pulled in a shuddering breath of air. “Goodnight, Cullen,” she said. Then, to her surprise, her fingers rose of their own volition. Very gently, she brushed her thumb over that damned scar on his upper lip.

His lips parted slightly, and with a fresh and dizzying rush of excitement, she watched the rising of his chest as he inhaled. Then he took her hand. 

Piper stared at him, completely unable to breathe and paralyzed with equal measures of panic and desire as he simply held her hand. A few terrifying heartbeats later, Cullen pressed her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. 

“Goodnight, Piper,” he whispered. He squeezed her fingers once more, then released her with a tiny smile.

She blew out a breath and grinned at him, and his smile widened until he was grinning too. He took a slow step away from her, then turned around and walked away. 

Piper leaned heavily against the glass double doors and heaved a huge sigh, but she couldn’t get the stupid smile off her face. She ran a slightly trembling hand through the madness of her hair, then let out a delighted little laugh. 

Fuck’s sake, she wanted him. It was almost embarrassing how badly she wanted him. But more than that, she was grateful for Cullen’s patience and his understanding, especially with the way her stupid brain kept flip-flopping between wanting to fuck him and wanting to hide under her own bed. 

_Take your time,_ he’d said. And that’s what Piper planned to do. But she suspected that taking her time with Cullen was going to be the sweetest kind of torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … yes, Solas is the lead singer of Veilfire. HAHAHAH BUT FOR REAL, [Solas’s VA is in a metal band!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJFe-yRGP78) #SolasTrashForever #SorryNotSorry
> 
> Piper Lavellan belongs to [Schoute on Tumblr!](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) Follow her for all the beautiful Piperford art!


	6. Five Minutes

Piper bobbed her head happily as she scrolled around on the karaoke laptop for a good song. The Hanged Man would be opening in an hour or so, and Hawke was behind the bar lazily counting the cash before the start of shift. 

“Come on, Pipes, throw something on already!” she called. 

“Yeah, yeah, hold your halla,” Piper retorted, but with no real annoyance. In truth, she was still feeling so elated from last night’s date with Cullen that it felt like nothing could bother her. Some idiot taxi driver had almost rammed into her when she was biking to the grocery store this afternoon, and she was in such a good mood that she hadn’t even jumped off of her bike to yell at him like she usually would. 

She finally picked a song: _Howlin’ For You_ by the Black Keys. The heavy drumbeat and gritty guitar riffs thrummed through the Hanged Man’s speakers, and Piper relished the sound as she made her way behind the bar to start cutting up the drink garnishes. 

Hawke smirked at her. “This song again, hey?”

Piper pulled out a small knife and cutting board and selected a freshly rinsed lemon from the draining board beside the sink. “What do you mean?”

Hawke shrugged. “You’ve been listening to this super-sexy song a lot today. You had it on loop in the shower this morning. Something on your mind?” 

Her tone was exceedingly innocent. Piper snickered as she picked up the knife. “Is this what you’re doing when you stay over in the spare bedroom? Listening in while I take my shower? That’s pretty pervy, even for you.” 

“It’s hard not to listen when your music is blasting through the entire upper floor,” Hawke retorted. “Not that I mind. By all means, blast your sexy jams all you like.” She started to grind her hips in an exaggeratedly sexual dance and slowly shuffled closer to Piper. 

Piper laughed and elbowed her. “Get out of here before I cut you.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Hawke drawled, then cackled raucously as Piper put the knife down and playfully pushed her away. They scuffled childishly for a minute, Hawke pulling Piper’s hair while Piper poked Hawke’s notoriously ticklish sides, then returned to their tasks. 

“Seriously though, I’m glad you had a good time last night,” Hawke said. “I knew Cullen was a good guy. I just had a fifth sense about it.”

Piper rolled her eyes with a smile. “Uh-huh,” she said. She’d told Hawke about Cullen being a good sport about the concert, and that they’d spent the rest of the night just walking around the city and talking, but she hadn’t gone into more detail than that. The date had just been so perfect that Piper wanted to keep the details to herself, like a dragon hoarding a treasure trove of sweet memories.

“When are you seeing him again?” Hawke asked.

“I’m not sure,” Piper said. “We haven’t set anything concrete yet.” She started briskly slicing the lemon into wedges. Cullen had texted her around noon as usual, and they’d exchanged a flurry of flirty messages before he’d had to meet with Hawke during his lunch, but neither of them had mentioned a second date yet. 

“Your ears are pink,” Hawke said matter-of-factly. 

Piper self-consciously wrinkled her nose as she arranged the lemon wedges in the garnish tray. “Don’t look at my ears.”

“It’s cute!” Hawke protested. “If it makes you feel any better, _his_ ears were just as pink when I went to his office today and found him texting you. It was fucking adorable.” 

“Shut up,” Piper groaned. She put the knife down and hid her stupid smile and her hot cheeks with her hands. “You’ll jinx it.” 

Hawke barked out a laugh as she returned the cash drawer to the register. “Don’t be stupid. That’s not a thing.”

Piper _tsk_ ed at her. “Says you. My luck’s been holding pretty well so far. I’d like to keep it that way, thanks.” 

Hawke shot Piper a curious look. “Seriously?” she said. “Do you really think luck has anything to do with what happens in a relationship?” She washed her hands, then picked up a second knife and cutting board and a citrus juicer.

Piper shrugged casually. “Could be. Who knows? Luck probably plays as much a role as anything else. I mean, you can never really know what people are going to do, right? People are a fucking mystery.”

Hawke didn’t reply. A few seconds later, Piper raised an eyebrow at her friend’s uncharacteristic silence. “What’s up?” 

Hawke shrugged as she continued juicing the limes. “Just thinking. People really are a fucking mystery, aren’t they? They’re usually a pleasant surprise, though.”

Piper huffed. “And sometimes they’re a nasty surprise.” She turned to the sink to wash her hands. She hadn’t really meant to get philosophical, and she was kind of regretting the turn this conversation was taking. 

She fished around for a crude joke to distract Hawke, but Hawke beat her to the punch. “Well, I hope Cullen will surprise you by being nice and nasty in bed,” she said bluntly. 

Piper threw her head back and laughed, half in genuine amusement and half in relief as the mood immediately lightened. “Fuck’s sake, you are obsessed. When’s the last time you had sex?”

Hawke gasped in mock outrage. “How dare you ask a lady such a question! Uhh, six months or something like that.”

Piper tutted in disappointment. “Well, that explains it. You clearly need some cock. You’d better get busy.”

Hawke snickered and bumped her with her hip. “I will if you will.”

They grinned at each other, then continued their start-of-shift tasks as they chatted about idle things. Some time later, however, they were surprised by a knock on the door of the Hanged Man.

They looked up, then glanced at each other. They weren’t opening for another twenty minutes or so. 

“I’ll get it,” Piper said. She sauntered around the bar toward the door and checked the peephole. 

It was Cullen. He was dressed in his full suit and tie and he looked slightly nervous, and Piper’s heart instantly leapt with excitement at the sight of him. 

She opened the heavy black door and grinned. “Why, hello there, counsellor. Did Hawke forget something at your office this afternoon?”

He smiled as he stepped inside. “No. I, er… came to see you, in fact.”

Her eyebrows rose with happy surprise. “Me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I was thinking - and we hadn’t had the chance to say… Piper, would you care to go out with me again?”

She grinned at his swiftly reddening cheeks, then laughed. She couldn’t help it. He was just so sweet. “Of course,” she said. “I told you last night that I wanted to.”

“I recall,” he said. “I just wanted to confirm.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie.

She studied him with a nearly painful rush of fondness. “You could have just texted me,” she said.

He scoffed and dropped his hand back to his side. “I’m not quite as swift at texting as you. I figured this would be… faster.”

_Bullshit,_ she thought affectionately. He was a perfectly fast texter. She raised her eyebrows and coquettishly folded her arms. “Coming all the way to Lowtown was faster than texting me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “All right, no, it wasn’t. But…” He trailed off and met her eyes, and Piper’s amusement faded as he studied her with those lovely chocolate-brown eyes of his.

The scarred corner of his lip lifted slightly. “Some things are better said in person,” he said softly. 

Piper bit her stupidly grinning lip and dropped her eyes. Like his clockwork-reliable texts from last week, she recognized this visit for what it really was: an excuse to see her. 

Fuck’s sake, she _really_ wanted to kiss him. She didn’t know if she’d ever wanted to kiss anyone this badly in her life. 

But Hawke was standing behind the bar juicing the limes, and Piper could practically feel Hawke’s attention on the back of her head. 

She took a deep and calming breath. “Well, consider this a confirmation,” she told him. “I would love to go out with you again.”

He smiled and released a breath of his own. “That’s wonderful. I… yes. So, er, when is your next free evening?”

“Wednesday,” Piper replied, with a hint of regret. A whole five days away… 

Cullen nodded. “Then I will see you on Wednesday. I suppose we can text to sort out the details.” His eyes twinkled with a hint of humour, and Piper laughed. 

“You can bear to text, even though it takes _sooo_ long?” she teased. 

He chuckled. “Yes, Piper, I will text. For you.” He took a step back toward the door of the Hanged Man. “I must get going; I’m not quite finished my work for the day. But I’m grateful for your time.” 

She chuckled as she followed him to the door. He was so damned polite. “All right. Don’t work too hard,” she said, even though she knew it was futile.

He smiled at her. “I… will do my best,” he said. “Goodnight.” 

“Bye,” she said. She watched with a goofy grin as he walked over to his car, then returned his casual wave as he slid into the driver’s seat. 

She went back into the Hanged Man and made her way back to the bar. “All right, all right,” she said to a widely-grinning Hawke. “Say whatever you’re going to say. Just get it out of your system.”

Hawke shrugged. “I’ve got nothing,” she said. “He’s just…” She trailed off and juiced another half-lime, then tilted her head. “This is great, okay?” She waved her hand vaguely at Piper. “This whole thing you guys have going on. I just want to sit here and eat popcorn and cry while I watch you guys flirting-”

Piper laughed and pulled a rag and the cleaning spray from under the sink. “Creators, we really need to find you a hobby.” 

Hawke tilted her head back and groaned. “Please, take pity on me. Your life is like a nice escape from mine. I honestly can’t wait for this damned case to be wrapped up.”

Piper winced and immediately sobered. Hawke always put on such a cheerful face that it was easy to forget sometimes about the murder charges. 

“Just one more month until the court hearing, right?” Piper said encouragingly. “Your charges will be dropped, and everything’ll be fine.” 

Hawke grimaced. “Your turn not to jinx it, now.”

Piper scoffed. “Please. It’s Cullen. If he thinks the charges will be dropped, then they’ll be dropped for sure.” 

Hawke nodded. “Yeah, of course. And if it seems like he’s not convincing the judge, he can just pop the top button of his shirt and distract them with a glimpse of his sexy chest.” 

Piper laughed, but she couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy as she studied Hawke’s determined smile. It had been a month since Malcolm’s death, and aside from a few brief bursts of tears that Hawke immediately made fun of herself for, Hawke had barely talked about her father’s death, or about how things were back at her house. 

Not that Hawke _could_ really talk about it, given the charges and the legal matters and all. But Hawke was a big one for talking about her shit in detail - all couched in humour and jokes, of course - and it made Piper’s heart hurt a little bit to see her working so hard to keep it to herself. 

Piper sprayed one section of the bar, then briskly started wiping it down. “You’re staying over at our place tonight, right?”

Hawke shrugged. “Ah, I shouldn’t. The house is kind of in a shambles. I don’t think the dishwasher’s been emptied in two days-”

“Fuck that,” Piper announced. “It’s just dishes. Especially if they’re clean. Come over,” she coaxed. “I really need your help with another stupid level of _Portal 2_.” 

Hawke primly turned her nose up. “I thought Isabela was your new _Portal_ partner.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “That was one time!” 

Hawke mock-pouted for another moment, then sighed. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “In the meantime, tell me about your next date. When’s it going to be?”

Piper raised one eyebrow at her irrepressible friend. “What, you weren’t listening in?”

“No, actually,” Hawke said, with as much dignity as she could muster. “I try to limit my spying to what I can see and hear without straining my eyes and ears.” 

“A strategic stalker? Well, I guess that’s… something,” Piper deadpanned. 

Hawke snickered, then screwed the cap onto the bottle of freshly squeezed lime juice. “Come on, then. When are you seeing him again?”

“Wednesday,” Piper said. She shifted along the bar and sprayed the next section. 

“Five whole days?” Hawke said with dismay. “Ugh, that’s so long. Well, good luck with your lady blue balls until then.” She turned away to stock the fresh juices and garnishes in the fridge.

Piper snorted with amusement. _Exactly what I was thinking,_ she thought, but she didn’t say it. Silly and superstitious it might sound, but she really didn’t want to jinx the budding ties between herself and Cullen. Their first date might have been perfect, but Piper wanted to make sure it hadn’t been a lucky fluke. 

As it turned out, she was wise to have been cautious in her expectations. 

Piper and Cullen texted consistently throughout the week. They made plans to go to a Nevarran restaurant followed by no plans in particular (“Let’s see where the night takes us afterwards!” Piper had suggested, much to Cullen’s apprehensive amusement), and for the rest of the week, her phone was peppered with sweet little messages from Cullen whenever he had a spare moment at work. As Wednesday grew nearer, she had an increasingly difficult time hiding how impatient and excited she was to see him again.

But when the highly-anticipated Wednesday morning rolled around, Piper was woken by the distinctive text-chirp of her phone.

She grumbled into her pillow as she picked up her phone. An instant later, she was wide awake, and there was a nervous roiling in her belly as she read Cullen’s texts.

**8:23am - Piper, please call me.**   
**8:23am - It’s important.**

_Fuck,_ she thought. She was instantly on high alert. Had something happened to him? Creators, she hoped he was okay.

She instantly tapped the ‘call’ button and pressed the phone to her ear. Two rings later, he picked up. “This is Cullen,” he barked. 

She recoiled slightly. She’d never heard him sounding this sharp before. “Cullen?” she said tentatively. “It’s… it’s Piper.”

“Piper,” he said. His voice softened slightly, but only very slightly. “I apologize for the early text. I am on my way to the courthouse, I can’t speak long. Listen, I must cancel our date tonight.”

Her roiling stomach instantly went stone-cold and still. “Oh,” she said blankly. “Um, okay. Are you-?”

He interrupted her. “I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t urgent, I assure you. May I call you tonight?” 

“Uh, yeah. Okay,” she said. 

“Thank you,” he said briskly. His voice softened a little bit more. “I am truly sorry about this. We will speak tonight, all right?”

“Sure,” she said in a small voice. 

“All right. Goodbye,” he said. Then his voice was gone.

She sat paralyzed in her bed for a moment with the phone still to her ear. Then she slowly lowered it to her lap. The call had been all of fifteen seconds.

Her throat felt tight. She swallowed hard and placed her phone back on the bedside table, then wrapped her arms around her blanket-covered knees. 

Her eyes were burning. She scowled and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Creators’ sakes, she was being so dramatic. _It’s just a cancelled date,_ she thought scathingly. _It’s hardly the end of the world._ It wasn’t like she was being dumped or anything like that. 

But Piper couldn’t deny that there was a throbbing in her chest that felt a hell of a lot like rejection. And now that the date had been cancelled, she was starting to feel foolish for being so excited about it, especially with how curt Cullen had been. 

_It’s not like that,_ she thought. It wasn’t like Cullen had been mean to her; not at all, in fact. He’d been perfectly polite and apologetic. But Piper’s chest felt tight as she recalled his tone of voice: so businesslike and brusque. 

She’d never heard him sounding like that. She’d heard him being playful and tender and sweet, and she’d heard him being passionate in his talk about justice and the law. But those were all different shades of warmth. She’d never heard him sounding so… cold. 

She tutted at herself. Cullen was a lawyer, and a successful one at that. He wouldn’t have become so successful by being warm and cuddly all the time. Of course there was a brusque side to him that she hadn’t yet seen. 

But still. It was one thing to know he had a sharper side, and another thing altogether to have that sharp voice telling her he was cancelling their date and didn’t have the time to talk to her.

_Shut up, Piper,_ she told herself. She was being so stupid. His terse tone was not personal. It was exactly as he’d said: something urgent at work, nothing more. Piper knew how busy he was. He worked on evenings and weekends, for fuck’s sake. He’d told her himself that the evening he’d spent with her had been his first night off in over a month. 

But she just wasn’t able to logic herself out of this sudden funk. That stupid negative voice in her mind was back: the ugly, unkind voice that Peronn had planted there with his cruelty. This awful voice had been temporarily muzzled by the brightness of her first date with Cullen, but now that their second date was broken, the voice seemed to have broken free as well, and it was whispering poisonously in her ear.

_It’s you he’s being cold to,_ the voice said. _You’re overly attached to him. You’re stupid for trusting him. He’s going to disappoint you, just like Peronn._

Piper sighed heavily and buried her face in her arms. For the first time in months, she allowed herself sink into self-pity. Of course Cullen didn’t have time to see her again. Of course this fledgling little relationship was too good to be true. After all, jerks were the only kind of guy that Piper seemed able to keep around. 

Not even jerks, actually. Peronn had left her, after all. 

She squinched her face up to ward off the tears, then took a deep and steadying breath before picking up her phone again.

She tapped into her messaging app and texted Merrill.

_8:33am - hey, what are you doing tonihgt?_

Merrill’s texts came back a few seconds later.

**8:33am - On dhea! :) I’m going to the cat cafe with Anders! =^..^=**   
**8:34am - He asked for my help with a medical paper he’s working on, but you know how he is, it’s more likely he wants to argue with me about Dalish healing, but I’m going to be a good friend and help as much as I can :3**   
**8:34am - Are you looking forward to your date tonight? :D**

Piper felt a sharp pang at the mention of the date. But she girded her loins like a big girl and texted Merrill back. 

_8:34am - nah, something came up, it’s cancelled. its cool though! can i tag along with you guys?_

**8:34am - Creators, of course you can!!!! It’ll be so fun if you come!!! :D**

Piper smiled at Merrill’s enthusiasm. At least _someone_ wanted to spend time with her.

She breathed deeply through another sickening surge of self-pity, then focused on her reply to Merrill. 

_8:34am - awesome! i’m not gonna mediate your academic arguments or whatever tho_   
_8:34am - if you start in with the medical jargon i’m just go hide in a cat basket_   
_8:34am - i’m just gonna go***_   
_8:34am - or start a literal cat fight, whatever’s easier_

**8:35am - Hahahaha!!! We’ll be good, I promise! Just for you! <3**   
**8:35am - Do you want some coffee, by the way? I’ll put some on for you! :3**

Piper smiled more broadly. Already she was starting to feel better. There was nothing quite like Merrill’s special brand of sweetness to soothe away her troubles.

_8:35am - yeah that would be awesome! thanks xo_

She placed her phone on her night table once more and finally got out of bed. She wandered to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face and get her wild hair into some semblance of order. When she returned to her bedroom twenty minutes later, there was a new text on her lock screen. 

It was from Cullen.

**8:46am - I am truly sorry, Piper. I look forward to speaking to you tonight.**

She held her breath as she read the text. It was such a polite message. Perfectly polite and apologetic and thoughtful. 

Her heart was thrumming in her throat. Her thumb hovered over the text, poised to swipe and reply. 

A few seconds later, she dismissed the notification without responding. She put her phone in her pocket and went downstairs for her coffee.

*************************

Cullen didn’t message her for the rest of the day. 

Piper spent the day in a fug of manufactured activity. She cleaned her room and decided to try purging her closet, then ended up throwing away almost nothing since the majority of her wardrobe consisted of concert tees that she refused to part with. She took a long bike ride around the entire city and stopped in Lowtown’s arts-and-crafts market to pick up some Dalish jewelry-making materials for Merrill, then went for coffee at Athenril’s Café and weaved half a bracelet before getting bored and coming home. By the time Merrill came home from her job at the alternative medicine clinic, Piper had binged her way through about eight episodes of _Brooklyn 99_. 

In all fairness, this wasn’t too different from what she might have done on a lazy day off. But somehow the day felt less productive and more restless than usual, and the absence of Cullen’s usual lunchtime text only served to worsen her suboptimal mood. It was with immense relief that she finally headed out to the cat café with Merrill. 

And it was with a certain amount of guilty relish that Piper sat between Anders and Merrill munching quietly on her apple pie while avidly listening to the two of them arguing. 

“I’m not saying Dalish healing methods are ineffective, Merrill,” Anders was insisting. “I’m just saying that most of them haven’t been properly researched. There’s no telling what side effects there might be in the long term without well-designed research.”

Merrill tutted and placed her teacup on the table with a clatter. “You doctors. You make it sound like everything you do in the hospital has been proven with Level 1 RCTs with big huge sample sizes when we both know that isn’t true!” 

Anders petted the big ginger tabby on his lap while he replied. “No doctor would ever make that claim. But there’s a reason you work at the alternative medicine clinic and not at the hospital, Merrill.”

“Yes, there is,” Merrill snapped. “Human bias, that’s why. Even though most of your so-called modern medicine was stolen from my people back in days of the early Tevinter invasions!” She folded her arms obstinately. “Piper agrees with me. Don’t you, Piper?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Piper said vaguely. Honestly, she barely knew what they were talking about. She was more entertained by the general spirit of their argument. There was something both soothing and stimulating about watching Merrill and Anders in their never-ending debates. 

Anders gave Piper a pleading look. “Were you even listening?”

Piper shot him a chiding look in return. “Anders, I’m never listening. But I do think you could use more pussy.”

His eyebrows shot up, and his face started to redden. “Wh-what? Why would you say that?”

The ginger tabby on his lap abruptly hopped off his lap and sauntered away, and Piper shrugged. “That’s why. Why, what did you think I meant?”

Merrill giggled, and Anders tutted in annoyance. Then Piper’s phone chirped with a text. 

She lifted it and glanced casually at the screen. A rush of anxiety immediately pulsed in her ears.

**7:32pm - Might I call you?**

Finally, after a full day of silence, Cullen was texting her again.

She chewed nervously on her lip. If she was honest, she did want to talk to him. As stupid and cliché and soppy as this made her sound, she’d been unable to get him off her mind all day despite her constant activity. But that shitty, mean, negative voice at the back of her mind was still hissing in her ear, telling her that Cullen was probably only going to say something that would disappoint her even further. 

She placed her phone back on the table without replying. But she couldn’t pretend to pay attention to Merrill and Anders’s conversation anymore; the stillness of her phone on the table was far too preoccupying. 

She lifted the phone from the table and read Cullen’s message again. Then she tapped into her messaging app and wrote him back.

_7:35pm - can’t right now, i’m out with friends_

The message swished away, and she returned her phone face-down to the table. But less than ten seconds later, it chirped again. 

**7:35pm - I understand. Would you like to speak later?**   
**7:35pm - Let me know if you have the time. I will likely be working into the early hours, so I should be awake.**

She read Cullen’s texts with a slow simmering of guilt in her gut. He was so busy with work, and still he was thinking of her, bending his nighttime schedule around her and her plans… 

Suddenly, all she really wanted was to hear his voice. 

She looked up at Merrill and Anders. “Listen, guys, I’m gonna get going.” 

“Is everything all right?” Merrill asked. 

“Yeah,” Piper said. She rose from her chair. “It’s just, um. I forgot something I wanted to do before tomorrow. Sorry…” 

“It’s fine,” Anders assured her. “Maybe I’ll get more attention from the cats after you leave.”

Piper raised her eyebrows as she tucked her chair in. “What? Why?”

“You’re so obviously a dog person,” Anders said with a slightly disdainful smirk. “I’m pretty sure you’re scaring them off.”

She snorted a laugh. “Oh. That’s why _I_ never get any pussy when I come here, then.” She grinned at a delicately blushing Merrill, then flicked Anders’s ear in farewell and left the café. 

She popped in her earbuds for the short walk home, then tapped out a reply to Cullen. 

_7:39pm - on my way home, i’ll text you soon_

**7:39pm - I’m pleased to hear that. Please get home safely.**   
**7:39pm - Not that I’m pleased you have left your friends. I don’t mean**   
**7:40pm - I’m just pleased to hear from you.**

Already she was smiling as she read his replies. There was an ache in her chest, but it was a good kind of pain, like the pain you had the day after a hard bike ride or from a healing bruise.

She took a deep breath and answered his messages.

_7:40pm - haha its ok i understand_   
_7:40pm - i dont want to keep you up too late anyway_

**7:40pm - Truthfully, I may end up working all night.**   
**7:40pm - Speaking with you will likely be the only pleasant part of it.**   
**7:40pm - Are you in a taxi?**

She nibbled the inside of her cheek. For the first time today, butterflies were fluttering in her belly again. Cautious little butterflies, perhaps, but butterflies nonetheless. 

_7:40pm - pshhh no, i’m a bike-and-walk kind of girl, remember?_

**7:41pm - You shouldn’t be texting while walking. It’s**   
**7:41pm - Pardon me. It’s not safe. Someone may take advantage of your inattention.**

She smiled. It was too easy to imagine the anxiety in his face. She could feel her residual reluctance melting away in the face of his obvious concern, and she couldn’t help but provoke him a little bit.

_7:41pm - well then a certain counsellor should probably stop texting me XD_

**7:41pm - Maker’s breath. You’re absolutely right. Please ignore me until you are home.**

_7:41pm - ignore you? with that gorgeous scar on your lip? i could never_

She grinned as his typing-ellipsis appeared, then disappeared, then appeared once more. 

**7:41pm - Piper, you can’t see my scar via text. This is the last text I will be sending until you get home.**

She chuckled wickedly, then texted him back.

_7:41pm - that sounds like a challenge_   
_7:41pm - the question is_   
_7:41pm - can YOU ignore ME?_

His typing-ellipsis appeared for a second then immediately disappeared, as though he had started a reply then caught himself. Piper laughed out loud, then tucked her phone in her pocket and as she lazily sauntered home. 

By the end of the song she was listening to, Cullen hadn’t texted back. So Piper pulled her phone out. 

_7:44pm - don’t worry, i know self-defense_   
_7:44pm - and if someone attacks me i’ll just stab them with my keys_

The messages swished away. Exactly as she’d predicted, he immediately started to write a reply. 

**7:44pm - Piper no**   
**7:44pm - Please don’t do that. You can be charged for assault.**

_7:44pm - not if i escape super-quickly like Batman!_   
_7:45pm - wait are you saying you’d rather i get dragged away by some creep then getting charged with assault_

She grinned as he instantly began to type his replies, then she laughed again once his messages came through. 

**7:45pm - No of ocurse not I wouldn’t**   
**7:45pm - Please.**  
 **7:45pm - You’re making me very nervous. Are you home yet?**

Gods, he was so cute. So nervous and flustered and so fucking cute. She typed out her quick response.

_7:45pm - soon!_

She shoved her phone in her pocket, then took off at a flat run for the final few blocks to Isabela’s condo. She was sweating from the summer humidity by the time she reached the door to the condo building, and the air conditioning was a welcome blast as she scurried to the elevators.

She waited impatiently for the elevator, then darted inside and hit the penthouse button before pulling out her phone out of her pocket to find another text from Cullen.

**7:52pm - I’m sending this against my better judgment. Are you home safe now?**

_7:58pm - yes yes i just set foot in the elevator! give a girl a second to get in the door sheesh XD_

The elevator hit the penthouse floor with a _ding_ , and Piper hurried to the condo and jammed her key in the lock. She shut the door behind her, then checked her phone again. 

**7:59m - Thank the Maker. Safely in your apartment now, I trust?**

_7:59pm - yes yes ok i am in my apartment safe and sound XD_   
_7:59pm - and now i’m takign off my boots_   
_7:59pm - taking***_   
_7:59pm - and then i’m going to go wash my hands_   
_7:59pm - and then i’m going to change my clothes_   
_7:59pm - hows this for status updates? feel better now? ;)_

She giggled madly as she tossed her phone onto the padded bench beside the door, then hauled off her boots as she’d said. Her phone chirped again as she was washing her hands, and as soon as they were half-dry, she grabbed her phone and eagerly looked at the screen. 

**8:00pm - Ha ha. Very funny.**   
**8:00pm - You seem to enjoy taunting me for some reason.**

She could picture his expression clearly in her mind’s eye: his lips pressed together and twisted into a reluctant smirk, and his ears slightly pink with embarrassment. The mental image fuelled her eager fingers as they flew across her keyboard to compose a reply.

_8:00pm - maybe i just like to make you blush_

**8:00pm - You can’t tell if I’m blushing. In fact, I can assure you that I’m not.**

_8:00pm - well maybe i need to try harder to make you blush..._

The message whisked away before Piper could think twice. She stared at the boldness of her own text for a breathless moment and vaguely wondered if she should regret having sent it. 

_Nah,_ she thought with a grin. She ran upstairs to her bedroom and pulled off her sweaty t-shirt and shorts, then sighed in relief as the air conditioning kissed her skin. Bare from the waist up, she skipped over to her dresser to pull out a fresh tank top out of her drawer and dragged it on, then picked up her silent phone.

She flopped onto her belly on the bed, then tapped open the messaging app. She waited for a moment, and within seconds, she saw what she’d hoped for: his typing ellipsis appeared, then disappeared for a few seconds, then appeared and remained for a good four seconds before disappearing again. 

Gods, he was _so_ flustered. She could practically feel his embarrassment through her screen. Before he could finish a message, she sent him a rapid-fire barrage of texts.

_8:03pm - i can FEEL you blushing_   
_8:03pm - you can’t fool me counsellor_   
_8:03pm - the question is, just how red are you?_   
_8:03pm - probably only a little bit pink_   
_8:03pm - should i tell you what im wearing right now?_

That did the trick. An instant later, he replied. 

**8:03pm - Maker’s breath. That’s**   
**8:03pm - May I call you, please?**

She rolled onto her back and grinned as she texted him again.

_8:03pm - can’t stand the suspense huh? ;)_

**8:04pm - Piper.**

_8:04pm - hahaha ok ok yes call me!_

Her phone rang less than three seconds later, and she picked up on the first ring. “Hello, who’s this?” she chirped. 

“Piper,” Cullen scolded. His tone was completely exasperated, and Piper couldn’t help it: she burst into laughter. 

She laughed and laughed into the phone. She knew she was making herself sound like an idiot, but the laughter felt like it was erupting from her belly in an unstoppable rush. When Cullen started laughing as well, it only made her laugh all the harder.

Finally, at long last, she wiped her eyes and pulled in a breath. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I couldn’t resist.”

He _harrumph_ ed. “Sometimes I think you just enjoy making me sweat.”

Piper grinned and rolled onto her belly once more. “Cullen, there is nothing I enjoy more than making you sweat.”

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered.

Piper giggled. “Are you regretting making this phone call yet?”

“Not at all,” Cullen said. His tone was firm, and Piper’s cheeky amusement softened and warmed at his serious response.

“Good,” she said. She settled comfortably onto her side. “Me neither.”

He chuckled, and Piper smiled into the phone at the precious sound. “How are you?” she asked softly. “How was your day?”

He sighed heavily. “Truthfully, it was a mess. I… you’ll find out in the news soon enough, but one of our associates was caught illegally purchasing lyrium. The evidence is quite damning, so he will be facing disbarment. We spent the day redistributing his cases and doing damage control.”

Piper’s jaw dropped. “Disbarred for purchasing lyrium? What… why…?”

“Illegal possession or distribution of lyrium is a felony,” Cullen explained tiredly. “And a felony is an automatic cause for disbarment in almost every jurisdiction in the Free Marches and Ferelden, including here in Kirkwall.” 

Piper winced. “Shit. I’m sorry, Cullen. That’s awful,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry for your associate.” 

“Sorry for _him?_ ” Cullen said sharply. “He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew the consequences if he were caught. The people I feel sorry for are his clients. All of their cases will be thrown into question. The rest of the firm will have to work overtime for weeks poring through his cases to make sure all of his work was beyond reproach.” 

Piper blinked at his vehemence. “Oh,” she said blankly. “That’s… that’s extra awful. I’m… really sorry.” She nibbled the inside of her cheek, uncertain how else to comfort him. 

He sighed again, and his voice was soft when he spoke again. “No, Piper, _I’m_ sorry. It’s not you that I’m angry at, you understand. It’s…” He paused for a moment before continuing. “I went to law school with him,” he said. “We knew each other well. And yet this has taken me completely by surprise. I can’t help but think I should have known.”

Piper frowned. “Why should you have known?” she asked. 

“I’m a partner,” he said sternly. “I hand-picked him to join the firm. He has worked for us for years. And worst of all, he was a friend.” He sighed again, and there was a soft rustling sound through the receiver, as though Cullen was sitting or lying down on a soft piece of furniture. “Maybe that’s what has me so disturbed. Maybe Samson was never the lawyer I thought, and I was biased in his favour this whole time.” 

Piper sat up slowly on her bed. “But those are all reasons why you wouldn’t suspect him. Don’t you think?” she said. “If he was a friend and a trusted colleague until now…” She trailed off for a moment, then spoke again. “Do you know why he was buying the lyrium?” 

“No,” Cullen said firmly. “And it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he broke the law, and his clients will be suffering the consequences.”

Piper was quiet for a moment. Eventually Cullen broke the silence. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 

She slowly twisted a curl of hair in her fingers. “I dunno. I… I’m really sorry for your firm,” she said. “It fucking sucks that you have to clean up this shitty horrible mess. But… I’ve known people who did some, um, questionable stuff,” she said carefully. A person couldn’t spend a year couchsurfing with strangers and seeking out the diviest bars without seeing their fair share of drugs being passed around, after all. 

“People do stupid shit when they’re desperate,” Piper said. “Maybe this Samson guy was desperate.” 

“Or maybe he’s a lyrium addict who refused to get help,” Cullen retorted.

Piper didn’t reply. She wasn’t really sure how to. She knew Cullen was passionate about justice and sorting right from wrong, and if she had to pick a side, she was on Cullen’s side more than this unknown associate. 

But… still. It seemed odd for him to have so little empathy for a person he admitted was a friend. 

She nibbled her lower lip as she wracked her brain for something to say. “Well,” she hedged. “It, um… it sounds like you didn’t listen to my advice to not work too hard.”

She held her breath, then released it in a quiet sigh of relief when Cullen chuckled. “Unfortunately, no,” he admitted. “I didn’t.”

Piper tutted playfully. “Well, that’s your big mistake. You should listen to me all the time. I have a lot of great advice for overworked lawyers.” 

“Please do share your advice, then. I would love to hear it,” he said. 

Piper grinned. He was trying to sound serious, but she could hear the curl of laughter in his voice. 

She flopped onto her back and stretched her free arm over her head. “My first piece of wisdom is to make sure you eat. Have you eaten today?”

“I have, in fact,” he said.

He sounded far too proud of himself. She tilted her head chidingly, even though he couldn’t see her. “More than once?” she asked shrewdly.

He cleared his throat. “Er, no.” 

“Go eat,” she commanded. “Right now.”

He grunted, and there was another rustling sound as he presumably rose to his feet from whatever piece of furniture he was on. “I already regret asking your advice,” he grumbled. “Anything else?”

She heard the soft but distinctive sound of a fridge opening. She giggled and crossed her legs. “Yep,” she said pertly. “My second piece of advice is to set a new date with a certain rowdy bartender.”

“Now that is something I definitely want to do,” he said. 

Piper smiled and rolled onto her side. But before she could make a witty reply, Cullen spoke again. “Piper, I want to apologize again for cancelling tonight. It was very sudden, I realize-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I knew you wouldn’t have cancelled if it wasn’t something urgent.”

“Ah,” he said. She heard the soft _clink_ of his fridge closing. “I was under the impression that… perhaps you were upset.”

Her stomach jolted with embarrassment. _Fuck,_ she thought. Had she really been that obvious? 

She released a little laugh. “No,” she fibbed. “It would be stupid to be upset. I know how busy you are.” 

He hummed a soft acknowledgement. “Well. I can be rather curt sometimes, if I am in the middle of something,” he said slowly. “I thought maybe that had… misled you.”

Piper laughed again, then clamped her lips together when she realized how nervous she sounded. “Nah,” she said loftily. “I wasn’t upset.” 

“All right,” he said softly. “I just… thought you might be when you didn’t text me back this morning.” 

_Fucking fuck,_ she thought once again. Now she really felt bad for not texting him back. “I, um, I knew you were busy,” she hedged. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

“You can always text me,” he said. “To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.”

His voice was so gentle and warm. Suddenly there was a lump in Piper’s throat. She couldn't speak around it, so she nibbled the inside of her cheek and plucked at the hem of her tank top instead.

“So,” Cullen said softly. “When can I see you again?”

Piper took a deep breath. With Cullen’s soft and intimate voice in her ear, she could almost imagine he was lying here beside her. 

Her chest felt heated and full, like a wave of warmth pushing its way into her throat and burning at the backs of her eyes. She closed her eyes and curled up on her side with her knees tucked cozily toward her chest. “I’m off again on Sunday night,” she said. 

“Then Sunday night it is,” Cullen replied. 

“I can’t wait,” Piper said. Then she bit her over-eager tongue. 

Cullen chuckled. “Neither can I, truth be told.” 

She smiled. Her ears felt warm, and so did her cheeks, but she didn’t care.

She let out a long, wistful sigh. “So… I guess I should let you get back to work,” she said.

He inhaled slowly. The soft sound of it was like a breath across her ear. “Not just yet,” he murmured. “Perhaps we can talk for another five minutes?”

The question was as gentle as his voice. Piper answered him in kind. 

“Of course,” she whispered. He was only asking for five minutes, but she would happily give him as many as he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One little Elvish phrase in here, from FenxShiral on AO3! _On dhea_ = good morning. 
> 
> Plot and Cullen character expansion, anyone? Also, Schoute... SAMSON RETURNS AND IT'S HONESTLY ALL YOUR FAULT LOL 
> 
> All Piper Lavellan are belong to Schoute. [Follow her on Tumblr](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) for all your Piper, Cullen, and Piperford needs!   
> And you can follow [me on Tumblr](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) too if you fancy! xo


	7. Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> INCOMING FLUFF ALERT. XD

_8:26am - good morning counsellor :3 hope you have a great day!_

**8:30am - Good morning, Piper. What a nice surprise. What are you doing awake so early?**

_8:34am - i didn’t work last night! rememebr?_  
_8:34am - or am i really that much less charming by phone that you forgot XD_

**8:34am - Of course I remember. I simply assumed you kept to a similar sleep schedule on the days when you aren’t working. I didn’t expect you awake until at least 11.**  
**8:35am - Wait. If you rise at 8:30am on the mornings after your day off… Am I to understand that your day will run from 8:30am to 3am?**

_8:35am - yep! no wonder your a lawyer_  
_8:35am - you’re**_  
_8:35am - you put that together real fast ;)_

**8:35am - Very funny. That is an incredibly long day. You won’t be tired during your shift?**

_8:36am - ofc not! this is how i roll! i thriiiiive on a lack of sleep_  
_8:36am - sleep is for the weak!!_  
_8:36am - besides you should talk, mister ‘i wake up at 530 and i dont stop working until 1am sometimes’_

**8:36am - Oh, look at the time. I am going into court in a moment.**  
**8:36am - Have a lovely morning, Piper.**

_8:36am - HAHAHAHA_  
_8:36am - court you say, suuuuuure XD good luck! xo_

********************

**12:07pm - When did those odd patterned pants come into fashion?**

_12:16pm - hey you! uhhh what are you talking about exactly lol_

**12:17pm - Those loose, elastic-waisted pants with the colourful geometric patterns.**  
**12:17pm - I would call them pyjama pants, but they appear to be made of high-quality linen or cotton.**  
**12:17pm - I’m sure they’re very comfortable, but they do not look at all professional.**

_12:17pm - oh counsellor, i hope thats not biasing your opinion of the plaintiff_

**12:18pm - It was not the plaintiff wearing them. It was the judge.**

_12:18pm - LMAO_

************************

**6:47pm - I am eating dinner now. I thought you would like to know.**

_6:52pm - congratulations!! i’m so proud of you!_

**6:52pm - Thank you. I had hoped my conventional mealtime would satisfy you.**

_7:10pm - satisfy me, huh?_  
_7:10pm - there are a lot of things you could tell me that would make me… satisfied_

**7:11pm - I knew that last message was a mistake.**  
**7:11pm - It vexes me that there’s no way to delete a message.**

_7:48pm - oh counsellor, i think you protest too much_  
_7:48pm - i think that message was exacly what you meant to send_  
_7:48pm - do you want to know something else that would satisfy me?_

**8:03pm - Do I even dare to ask?**

_8:27pm - knowing what you had for dinner_  
_8:27pm - i forgot to eat before i started my shift HAHAHA_

**8:27pm - You are incorrigible.**

_8:29pm - you know it ;)_

************************

 **12:05pm - Good afternoon, Piper. I may not be readily available today, but I wanted to wish you a pleasant Friday.**  
**12:05pm - Hopefully your shift tonight will not be overly “rowdy.”**

_12:07pm - LOL you’re never going to let that story go are you XD_  
_12:07pm - its fine, i have no shame, i’m proud of my nickname_

**12:10pm - I still can’t decide whether to be impressed or horrified that you diffused a bar fight by turning it into an impromptu fight club instead.**

_12:10pm - be impressed!! i am super impressive!_  
_12:10pm - the only thing thats disappointing is that Varric wouldn’t let me join in_  
_12:23pm - i take it from your silence that you are definitely not impressed XD_

**12:57pm - I’m sorry about the late reply. The Bar Association is interviewing today about Samson’s activities.**  
**12:57pm - May I call you tonight?**  
**12:57pm - Never mind. You will be at work.**

_12:57pm - it’s okay, dont be sorry! look after your practice_  
_12:57pm - i’ll call you during one of my breaks!_

*******************

**11:45pm - Thank you.**

_12:07am - for what? you’re the one who made me laugh!_

**12:07am - Please don’t remind me. It was an accidental belch. I’m still mortified.**  
**12:07am - In any case, I am extremely grateful.**

_12:08am - im still laughing!!!_

**12:08am - The only times I seem to feel calm this week are after I have spoken to you.**  
**12:08am - For that, I’m very thankful.**

_12:13am - oh counsellor_  
_12:13am - what a silver tongue you have_  
_12:13am - seriously though no need to thank me_  
_12:13am - hearing your voice cheers me up just as much_

**12:17am - That’s really nice to hear, Piper. Thank you.**  
**12:17am - Now I can’t seem to stop thanking you. I’m sorry.**  
**12:17am - Or apologizing. Maybe I should quit while I am ahead.**

_12:48am - ah late reply bar cleanup sorrysorry! omg you’re too cute_  
_12:48am - i hope hope hope you’re asleep! <3_

************************

_2:48pm - hey! just checking in! no need to reply if you’re working, i hope you have a good saturday_

**3:02pm - Hello, Piper. I would be lying if I said it was good, but seeing your text makes it better.**  
**3:02pm - One of our associates went off on emergency family leave. I have picked up two of Samson’s cases in her stead. The timing is extremely unfortunate.**

_3:04pm - oh shit. im so sorry_  
_3:04pm - i wish i could help :(_  
_3:04pm - do you need to reschedule tomrorow?_

**3:04pm - No. Absolutely**  
**3:04pm - My apologies. Absolutely not. I will pick you up at 6:00 as planned.**  
**3:04pm - But I must focus on this case for now. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.**

_3:05pm - ok as long as you’re sure_  
_3:05pm - good luck counsellor xoxo_

*************************

Piper woke up on Sunday morning with a nauseating mix of worry and excitement in her gut. 

She hadn’t heard from Cullen since yesterday afternoon. Not that she’d expected to, given how insanely busy he was. It was a good bet that he was using most of this day to get as much work done as he could before their date. Besides, when he’d cancelled their last date, he’d told her as early in the day as he could, so it seemed very unlikely that he would cancel today.

The mean little voice in her mind was unconvinced, however. _He might still cancel. You don’t know what he might do,_ it whispered. _Guys are never what they seem._

She shoved a hand through her wild hair and shoved the thought aside. _Nope,_ she told herself firmly. _He said he’d come, and he will._ That fucking negative voice had been completely wrong about Cullen before, and Piper refused to let it take hold of her today, not when she was so looking forward to seeing him. 

They were going to a casual Rivaini restaurant tonight, followed by an open mic night at a comedy club. Given the stress that Cullen was under, Piper had decided that their date should be a little more easygoing than the upscale Nevarran restaurant they’d cancelled on Wednesday. If she managed to get him laughing at some amateur stand-up comedy tonight, all the better. 

She spent a good chunk of the day on a long and satisfying bike ride around the city, then finished her ride at Hawke’s house. To Piper’s dismay, Hawke’s mother seemed to have entirely given up trying to maintain the house. Upon discovering the mess and the bills and the other financial arrangements that Hawke was coping with, Piper ignored Hawke’s protests and spent a couple of hours helping to clean the house before finally heading home to prepare for her date. 

_Fucking Leandra,_ she thought as she washed her hair. Then she sighed at the uncharitable thought. Piper had been quite a mess herself after her father had died, so she supposed Leandra couldn’t be blamed for having difficulty carrying on after her husband’s death. Besides, if Anders was right and Leandra was depressed but refusing help, that would only make it harder for her to do the most mundane tasks.

But none of that excused Leandra’s treatment of Hawke. The shit Leandra had been saying about Hawke being ungrateful and devious, then begging Hawke to fix the cable box just as she was getting ready to leave for work… 

Piper scowled as she twisted her conditioner-slathered hair into a bun, then began lathering up with her favourite vanilla-rain bodywash. _Whatever. Hawke will be free of her soon,_ Piper thought. Hawke had finally decided to move into the spare room at Isabela’s condo after her hearing, and in Piper’s opinion, that day couldn’t come soon enough. 

She turned up the volume on her shower speaker, then did a little shimmying dance as she rinsed herself off. Cullen would be here in less than an hour, and Piper’s nerves were starting to come back. Not about seeing Cullen per se; she was unequivocally psyched for that. But despite her efforts, that stupid bitter voice in her head wouldn’t let her just enjoy the anticipation of seeing Cullen again. 

She turned her music up even louder, then hopped out of the shower and danced more heartily still as she towelled off. No better way to fight the anxiety than to dance, after all.

When Cullen called up to the penthouse at 5:58pm, Piper was almost vindictively satisfied. _So there,_ she thought to herself as she buzzed him in. But as soon as she opened the door, some of her excitement melted into worry. 

Cullen smiled as she opened the door, but there were dark circles under his eyes, and Piper could practically feel the tension that was seizing his broad shoulders. 

“Piper,” he said warmly. He squeezed her arm in greeting, then tucked his hands back into the pockets of his dark grey slacks. “Are you ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said. She studied him worriedly. The cant of his eyebrows practically screamed _stress_. 

At that moment, Piper made a snap decision. “Actually, no,” she said. “Why don’t you come in and have a drink?” 

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Oh. Are you - do we have reservations, though?”

“Nah,” she said. “The Rivaini place is busy, but they’ve got a high table turnover. Don’t worry about it.” She chivvied him inside. “Can I get you a beer?”

“Uh - yes, certainly.” He took a seat at the kitchen island where Piper directed him. 

She pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge, then swiftly opened them and sat beside him. She slid one bottle in front of him and tilted her head. “You look like your head is going to explode,” she informed him. “Are you okay?” 

He stared at her for a moment, then released a breathy little laugh and ran a hand through his wavy hair. “I…”

“Let me rephrase that,” Piper said. “What’s on your mind?” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, then picked up his beer. “Where do I start?” he said. He looked at the beer for a moment, and Piper could tell from the vacancy of his gaze that he wasn’t really seeing it. 

“I… The practice is a disaster. No, that’s unfair,” he amended immediately. “We are doing the best we can to deal with Samson’s mess. But my own cases are not as squared up as I want them to be. A new piece of evidence against my client was admitted on Friday, which always means yet another trial date in a month and all the associated workup. And then there is Hawke’s case, which… forgive me, I can’t speak of it, but… not that I am not happy to help,” he blurted. “It’s not that. I - Hawke’s case is a worthwhile cause. I simply-”

Piper rested one hand on his forearm. “Cullen,” she said firmly. “It’s all right. You have a lot of shit on your plate. I don’t blame you for being stressed.”

He heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair, then gave her an apologetic look. “This can’t be what you expected for our date. I’m sorry to be such poor company.”

“You’re not,” she insisted. She gently squeezed his forearm. “You’re here, so I’m happy. Don’t worry about me.” 

Beneath her fingers, she felt the stiff muscles of his forearm relax. Then, with a tiny flash of horror, she realized how needy she sounded. 

_Argh._ She released his arm and gave a little laugh, then picked up her beer. “You made it to the end of this week,” she said brightly. “Cheers to that.” She tapped her bottle against his. 

He smiled, and Piper smiled back; his eyebrows were starting to lose that hunted look. “Cheers,” he said softly, and he took a sip of his beer. 

His eyes widened as he lowered the bottle. “This is very nice. Is this the amber ale you told me about?”

“Yes!” Piper said brightly. She’d bought this six-pack with him in mind, and she was pleased he remembered. 

_Of course he remembered,_ she thought. He was a lawyer with a mind like a steel trap. 

He smiled and took another long drink, then sighed and placed his bottle on the counter. “Truthfully, I shouldn’t complain,” he said. “Leliana is doing a wonderful job of damage control with the press. Our other associates have been excellent sports in picking up Samson’s cases, and Cassandra is overseeing all of them except the two cases I took. So really, things are mostly under control, given the circumstances. I have no right to complain.”

“That’s good that things are under control,” Piper said. “But ‘under control’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good’.”

He sighed and sipped his beer again. “You’re right about that,” he said ruefully.

She frowned, slightly annoyed at herself. She hadn’t meant to sound discouraging. 

She tried again. “What I mean is, just because things are under control doesn’t mean that it’s easy. You have a right to be stressed. It’s okay to vent.”

He slowly rolled the bottle between his palms. Then he looked up and met her eyes. “It is an old habit to keep the stress to myself,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I had someone I… felt like I could vent to.”

Her heart did a little flip in her chest. His chocolate-brown gaze was soft and warm, and his words… He made it sound like she was something special. 

She shyly dropped her gaze. “You don’t have bitching sessions at work with Leliana or Cassandra when you guys are all stressed?” she joked weakly. “That’s me and Hawke’s favourite pastime. Especially when it’s a home game night for the Idols.” She took another gulp of her beer.

He chuckled. “No. We are purely business when we’re at work. Besides, if we began complaining during times of stress, we would never get anything done.”

Piper barked out a laugh, then shot him a sympathetic look. “Aw. I’m sorry. That’s not really funny, is it?”

He smiled. “I can’t decide. Regardless, the point stands that you are the person I feel most comfortable bringing these complaints to.” He huffed and shook his head. “What an unfortunate role for you. Being burdened like this…”

She gently smacked his forearm. “Cullen, stop,” she protested. “It’s not a burden, okay? It makes total sense that you find it easier to rant to me. I don’t work in law, and sometimes it’s easier to talk about shitty work things if the person you’re talking to outside of that circle, you know?”

Cullen nodded slowly. “That is true. But that’s… not the reason.” He turned on his stool to face her, and once again Piper was arrested by the seriousness of his gaze. 

“It’s you, Piper,” he said. “You are extremely empathetic. I… perhaps this is not something you want to hear. I know you prefer…” He trailed off thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.

“When people first meet you, they meet Rowdy Piper,” he said.

She barked out a laugh. “Fuck yes they do.” She raised her beer grandly, then took a big gulp. 

He grinned at her, but his face grew sober again quite quickly. “That rowdy little elf is part of who you are. But it’s not the whole picture. You are very kind. Very… I hate to say it, since I’m not sure you will agree, but you are very tenderhearted.” 

He reached out and gently took her hand. “This is what makes you so wonderful to talk to. Whether you mean to be or not, you are very selfless. And I think you are very special.” 

Piper rolled her eyes and smiled, but her cheeks were positively burning. Cullen thought _she_ was kind? _He_ was the kind and altruistic one. Clearly he hadn’t seen her swearing at the terrible taxi drivers who rocketed around Kirkwall’s streets or taunting the drunken perverts who hung around outside the Blooming Rose at two in the morning on a Tuesday night. 

His fingers were strong and warm, and his thumb was gently stroking her knuckles. Her heart was thumping in her ears, making them feel even hotter. She could feel his eyes on her face still, those eyes of his that were heated and gentle and unnervingly penetrating, and she couldn’t meet his gaze if her life depended on it. 

She let out a nervous little laugh and toyed idly with her beer bottle with her free hand. “Wow, counsellor. I can see how you win all your cases with that silver tongue of yours.”

He squeezed her hand slightly. “These aren’t the kinds of words I would share with a courtroom, Piper.” 

His gentle grip on her hand was insistent. Piper took a deep breath, then finally lifted her eyes to his face. 

He looked so serious, and so relaxed. His lovely scarred lip was tilted in the merest hint of a smile, and his gaze was steady and calm. 

They gazed at each other in silence, and as the seconds ticked by, the air between them seemed to thicken and swell, like the delicious brewing of a summer storm. 

She flicked her eyes to his slightly-smiling lips. Her heart was thrumming in her ears, and her cheeks were warming once again, but this time with anticipation rather than embarrassment. 

She stared at him, paralyzed and giddy from the echoes of his words and the undeniable fondness in his face. Her fluttering heart couldn’t decide what it wanted more: to lean in and kiss him, or to laugh him off and return to the mindless, easy fun of their banter. 

To her vast relief, Cullen took the choice away from her. He lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles, then released her hand and leaned back on his stool. “Well. If you’ve grown tired of my lectures, perhaps we should be on our way.” 

She smiled at him, both relieved and disappointed as the tension between them melted back into their usual easy warmth. She rose from her stool and tilted her head cheekily. “How many times do I have to tell you, counsellor? You can lecture me anytime.”

He chuckled as he followed her to the door. “Don’t say such things. I’m certain you would regret the offer if I took you up on it.”

She tossed him a saucy look. “Hearing lectures in your voice? Not a chance.”

He smiled and scratched the back of his neck, and Piper beamed at his pinkened cheeks as she walked over to the shoe rack. But as she lifted her black heeled ankle boots from the rack, a sudden thought occurred to her. 

She glanced over her shoulder at Cullen. “Hey, how would you feel about a total change of plans?”

His eyebrows jumped high on his forehead. “Change of plans? I… certainly, if you like, but why? To what?”

She put the ankle boots back, then picked up her favourite scuffed Doc Martens instead. “I was thinking. When was the last time you left the city?”

He frowned slightly and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “I… honestly can’t recall. It might have been… the last time I went to the South Reach. So… a few months ago.” 

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “You know what you need to relax? An escape.” As much as Kirkwall felt like home, being cooped up in the city day after day could get wearying, and one of Piper’s favourite ways to decompress was by taking a short trip out of Kirkwall, whether just for the day or for a little overnight camp. 

She shoved her feet into her boots and plopped down on the front hall bench to tie them up. “I’m taking you on a field trip. Have you ever been to Sundermount?”

“A few times, for conferences,” Cullen said. “There is a ski resort that’s commonly booked for those kinds of things.” 

“Oh right, that place,” Piper said dismissively. “That’s on the east side of the mountain. Have you ever done the highway drive on the west side?”

His lifted eyebrows rose even higher. “The… are you speaking of the demon road?”

Piper laughed at the western highway’s infamous name. “That’s the one. Have you ever done it?”

“I can’t say I have,” Cullen said. He was beginning to look apprehensive now. “Isn’t it fairly dangerous?”

Piper waved her hand casually as she led him toward the elevator. “They recently put up guardrails along the entire length of the highway. It kind of takes away some of the thrill if you ask me. But no,” she added hastily as Cullen grimaced, “it’s totally safe. Super-well maintained, actually.” She beamed at him. “I’m taking you there.” 

He tugged at the collar of his baby-blue button-up. “I, err… I’m not sure I’m quite confident to-” 

“Oh, no, you’re not driving,” Piper hastily assured him. “I’m going to drive.” 

His cautious expression deepened, and she threw her head back and laughed. “Creators, don’t you trust me to drive your car?” she exclaimed.

He hesitated, then grinned as Piper laughed even more loudly. He shook his head in mock dismay. “After that story you told about the rental motorcycle and the near-accident you had?” he said. “I don’t think you can blame me for a bit of caution.”

She playfully punched his arm. “That was one time. And I was really young.”

“You said that was a year ago,” he said flatly. 

“Exactly!” Piper chirped. “I’m much more careful now.” 

Cullen raised an eyebrow, and Piper grinned at him. She led him out to the lobby, but before they left the condo, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

She looked up at him seriously. “Listen, we don’t have to go to Sundermount if you’d rather stay here,” she said. “But honestly, I think you could use the break from the city. And a night where you don’t have to be the one in the driver’s seat for once.” She tilted her head playfully. “I can be a careful driver when I have a good reason to be. Having a handsome but nervous lawyer in the passenger seat is the best reason. I won’t even speed, I promise.”

He released a slow exhale, then shook his head with a wry smile. “All right. Let’s go to Sundermount,” he said. “I know better now than to ignore your advice.” He pulled his keys from his pocket, then handed them to her.

She beamed at him, then squeezed his arm. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.” She led the way to the condo’s visitor parking and slid into Cullen’s car, then grinned at him as he slid in beside her. “Now, remind me which pedal is the gas?”

He scowled at her in alarm. “Piper.”

She cackled, then slid the key into place and started the car. She plugged her phone into his dash, then tapped into her music app and handed him the phone. “Here,” she said. “You pick the music.” She carefully backed out of the spot.

He took the phone and shot her a tiny smirk. “Why do I get the feeling you’re letting me choose so you can tease me for whatever I pick?”

She gasped in mock offense as she flipped on the left-turn indicator. “Me, tease _you?_ I would never.” In truth, she had no intentions of teasing him for whatever music he chose. He could listen to fucking country music if it meant he would relax and enjoy himself. 

After a brief stop at the Rivaini restaurant for takeout - “we’ll have a picnic!” Piper said brightly - they were on the road out of the city. The midsummer sun was slowly making its way toward the horizon, but Piper was hopeful that they would make it to Sundermount in time to see the sunset. 

She threw him a quizzical look as they turned onto the exit for Sundermount. “How come you didn’t pick any music yet?” 

He grimaced apologetically. “I wasn’t sure what to choose, to tell you the truth. I normally listen to talk radio or podcasts.”

Piper’s eyes widened. “Seriously? What about when you’re working?”

“I don’t listen to music when I’m working,” he said. “It’s too distracting.” 

She shot him a quick incredulous glance. “What about when you’re at home? Cooking or cleaning?” 

He lifted his shoulders. “Still talk radio or law podcasts, I’m afraid.” 

Piper was stunned. There was barely a moment when she didn’t have music playing, but she didn’t want to make Cullen feel weird about not listening to music. 

She flicked the left-turn indicator, then carefully changed lanes before speaking again. “What about when you were in university?” she asked. “Were there any bands you liked? Or when you were a kid? Did your parents play music?”

Cullen settled into his seat and folded his hands over his abdomen. “There were a few bands that were popular when I was university.” He huffed in amusement. “And a few songs in particular that the team enjoyed playing at parties after we won.” 

“Yeah?” Piper said. “Do you remember what they were called?”

“Of course,” Cullen said. “They’re fairly drilled into my brain from repetition.”

Despite his sardonic words, his smile was soft and nostalgic. Piper quickly unlocked her phone and tapped the screen. “Find them,” she urged him. “We’ll listen to them while we drive.”

“Oh, no, that’s quite all right,” Cullen protested. “They were raucous, foolish songs, I don’t think you would…” He trailed off, then threw her a wry smirk. “Actually, you would probably like them, knowing your taste in music.”

Piper grinned at him. “Try me. I’m up for anything.”

He smiled and sat forward in his seat. “All right then,” he said, and he began searching around on her music app. 

“Make yourself a playlist,” she suggested. “Call it ‘Cullen’s Jams’.” 

He snorted in amusement. “That makes it sound as though I make fruit jellies in my spare time.”

Piper _tsk_ ed playfully. “Don’t be silly. Nobody will think you have spare time.”

Cullen laughed. “True enough.” Then the first bars of music drifted through the speakers. 

The song was one that Piper remembered from her teenage years, and she smiled at Cullen as she recognized it. “Oh yeah, this song! I love this one!” 

“That doesn’t surprise me, but I am happy to hear it.” He smiled at her, and Piper’s chest warmed with satisfaction at how relaxed and happy he looked. 

She grinned and wound down the windows. A burst of fresh summer air rushed through her hair, and Piper adjusted the windows so that the wind would blow her hair back and away from her face. 

She turned the music up louder to make up for the open windows, then glanced at Cullen. His elbow was resting casually on the open window, and his head was tilted back and his knees were comfortably spread. He was idly tapping his fingers on his knee in time with the song, and the little smile on his face…

This had been the right thing. Bringing him out of the city had been the exact right thing to do. 

Her heart felt so full just from looking at him. She turned her eyes back to the road, grateful for the upbeat rock music for filling the car so she didn’t fill it with foolish besotted words instead. 

They passed the rest of the drive chatting about little things and listening to Cullen’s favourite songs. The road was largely empty, and Piper absolutely would have broken the speed limit if Cullen wasn’t here, but having him beside her was more than worth the slow drive. 

By the time they arrived at Sundermount’s base, the sunset was well under way, and Piper wasn’t sure they would make it to the lookout point in time to catch any of it. In truth, it didn’t really matter if they made it or not; the demon road was a beautiful drive no matter what, and they’d still get there in time to enjoy the changing colours of the sky as it sank into night. 

She turned to Cullen with a playful grin. His expression was apprehensive again as he studied the cautionary traffic signs at the narrow highway entrance, and she already knew how he was going to react to her incoming tease, but she couldn’t help herself. 

“All right,” she said briskly. “Before we head up, you have a choice: we can speed to make it to the top for sunset, or-”

“Piper, no,” Cullen blurted.

She laughed and gently punched his arm. “Kidding, kidding. We’ll take our time.” Without further ado, she pulled onto the demon road. 

She drove carefully just below the speed limit, like the first time she’d done this drive. She watched Cullen from the corner of her eye as she drove, and the warm feeling of satisfaction in her belly swelled at the obvious admiration in his face as he studied the landscape. 

His gaze tracked from the lushly-forested mountainside on the east to the stormy blue sea off to the west. “This is… truly impressive,” Cullen said eventually. “The east side of the mountain is very different. Much more cultivated.” 

“Yeah, for that fancy ski resort,” Piper said. “This is the side that the Dalish haven’t rented out to the humans.”

Cullen’s eyes widened as he looked at her. “Maker’s breath, you’re right,” he said. “Kirkwall only owns the road itself on this side. The rest is Dalish land.” 

“Exactly,” she said. “Wild and untamed.” She slowed to a stop at a one-way bridge so an incoming car could pass. 

“It certainly is,” Cullen agreed. He carefully reached over and brushed an errant twist of her silver hair over her shoulder. 

Piper briefly met the warmth of his chestnut eyes, then nibbled the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning like a total idiot. They continued their way up the narrow winding road, and by the time they reached the lookout point about halfway up the mountain, the sun had already sunk below the horizon.

Cullen stepped out of the car and gave Piper a rueful smile. “I’m sorry we missed it.”

“I’m not,” she replied. “The sky is still gorgeous.” She picked up their bag of Rivaini takeout from the back seat, then walked around to the hood of the car and seated herself on it. 

She shuffled into place sol her back was almost at the windshield, then tucked her legs beneath herself and smoothed her short skirt over her thighs. She pulled the takeout boxes out of the paper bag and laid them on the hood, then looked at Cullen. 

He was standing beside the car watching her with a look of surprise. She tilted her head. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes, I… yes,” he said. “I just… have never sat on the hood.” 

Piper stared at him, then clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh fuck. Should I not sit on the hood? Here, we can just sit at a picnic table like normal people…” She hastily started to shift off of the hood. 

“No,” Cullen blurted. He hastily reached out to grab her hand before she could slide away. “No, it’s all right. Let’s sit on the car.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Cullen said. “I’m following your lead tonight.” He released her hand, then gingerly sat on the hood of the car and shuffled back toward the windshield like Piper had done. 

Piper bit back a smile. He looked quite awkward with his long legs stretched out, but she supposed there was no better way for him to sit on the hood while he was wearing good slacks. He couldn’t very well cross his legs. 

She snorted at the thought of Cullen sitting cross-legged on his car, then cleared her throat clumsily to hide it. She settled back down on the hood and handed him his box of food. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit at a table? It would be more comfortable for you…”

“I am perfectly comfortable right here,” Cullen announced. He took the box from her hands, then opened it and began to eat. 

He looked awkward but determined, and his expression was content as he studied the view, and Piper unconsciously rubbed her sternum as her heart gave an almost painful thump in her chest. 

She picked up her own container of spicy chicken and rice. “Okay, if you’re sure. Don’t let me steamroll you.” She fished around in the bag and pulled out a sachet of hot sauce, then squeezed it over her meal. 

Cullen swallowed his bite of oxtail and plantain before replying. “I don’t worry about you steamrolling me. You are rather small.” 

Piper looked up in surprise, then burst out laughing at his tiny smirk. She shifted her position and leaned toward him provocatively. “Well, counsellor, I’m not sure what _you_ have in mind when you say steamrolling, but your intentions definitely sound more interesting than mine.” She wiggled her eyebrows salaciously. 

He ducked his head and scooped up another forkful of food. “Maker’s breath. I should know better than to engage in this kind of repartee with you.”

Piper laughed at his charming embarrassment, then happily turned back to her chicken and rice. By the time they’d finished their meals, the horizon was a glorious palette of clementine and pomegranate pink that morphed and melted up into the midnight blue of the early nighttime sky. 

Piper sighed in satisfaction, then gathered the debris of their meals and hopped off of the hood to throw the trash away. When she turned back to the car, Cullen was lounging back against the windshield with his legs outstretched and his arms folded behind his head. 

He looked much more at ease now than when he’d first sat on the hood, and Piper smiled as she joined him. “So? The demon road is pretty good, right?” she said. She kicked off her boots and socks - _ahh, freedom,_ she thought as she wiggled her bare toes - then settled back against the windshield and stretched her legs out as well. 

“It’s beautiful,” Cullen confirmed. He turned his head to look at her. “Truly, Piper, thank you for bringing me here. I don’t believe I would have come to this side of the mountain if not for you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said. “We Dalish know how to throw a sunset.” She waved expansively toward the sky. “I ordered this special just for you.”

He chuckled at her silliness. “Well, thank you for the effort. It was not at all wasted.”

“Good,” she said softly. She folded her hands over her belly, and she and Cullen simply lay in a comfortable silence for a moment. The summer breeze was whispering through the surrounding trees, and crickets were starting up their usual nighttime symphony, and as the peaceful evenings sounds washed over them, Piper became increasingly aware of the distance between herself and Cullen.

Or, rather, the lack of distance. 

They were sitting about a foot apart. A mere sixteen inches. A tiny span of space that an outstretched hand could easily breach. But Cullen’s arms were folded behind his head. 

A surge of excited nerves pulsed in her ears, and she swallowed hard to quell it. Slowly and surreptitiously, she placed her right hand on the hood between them, then hesitated. It would be weird to tell him to put his arms down so she could hold his hand, right?

 _Definitely weird,_ she thought. She rubbed her fingers together awkwardly, then shifted a little restlessly on the hood. 

Then Cullen’s rich voice broke the quiet. “I can’t recall the last time I did this. Just… sat down somewhere on my own to think.” 

Piper turned her head and smiled at him. “You’re not on your own. Do you want me to get in the car so you can pretend?”

Cullen huffed in amusement, then shot her a chiding look. “You understand what I mean.” Then he unfolded his arms from behind his head and took her hand. 

Piper stopped breathing. His fingers were deliberate and firm as they slid over her palm to twine with hers, and Piper forced herself to take a slow, careful breath to quell her sudden giddiness. 

_Fuck’s sake, Piper, calm down,_ she thought. There was no reason that her heart should suddenly be pounding out an excited staccato in her chest. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d touched. It wasn’t even the first time they’d held hands. 

But _this_ kind of hand-holding was different from the necessity of dragging him out of a concert venue. It was different from him squeezing her hand in thanks. The interlacing of their fingers, the heated press of his palm and the idle sweep of his thumb over hers: holding Cullen’s hand like this was more than any of that.

This was… intimate. It was an unequivocal and unembellished show of affection. It was a physical representation of everything she’d hoped for during these past two weeks of waiting to see him again. It was the reward she got for ignoring the skeptical voice in her head. As Piper lay on the hood of Cullen’s car holding his hand, she was visited by the crazy, impulsive thought that maybe holding his hand wasn’t just _more_.

Maybe it was everything. 

Cullen spoke again, interrupting the giddy madness of her thoughts. “I think the last time I had a quiet moment like this was when I was a teenager, before I went to university,” he said quietly. “There was a place I liked to go to hide from my siblings. I love them, but they were very loud. There was a botanical garden about half a mile from our house, and it was not the usual place people would expect to find me. I would go to the tropical greenhouse and just sit there for a time to clear my head.” He chuckled. “Of course, my siblings always found me eventually.”

She curled toward him slightly, careful not to jostle their twined hands so he wouldn’t let her go. His eyes were contentedly closed, and Piper shamelessly admired his profile as she replied. “If you enjoyed relaxing in a botanical garden, I’m extra surprised you never came here before.”

Cullen shrugged. “I am used to the city. I grew up in a city, after all, though South Reach is by no means as large as Kirkwall.” 

Piper twisted her lips thoughtfully. “Well, there must be somewhere in Kirkwall that you could go to relax.” 

“My condo is comfortable. I’m sure I could relax there,” he said.

“But you don’t,” Piper pointed out. 

He shook his head. “There always seems to be too much to do.” He sighed. “My email is the worst culprit. I can’t bring myself to mute the notifications when I get home. I often cook with one hand while writing responses with the other. It’s a wonder I haven’t dropped my phone in a boiling pot by now.”

“Maybe it would be a good thing if you did,” Piper said playfully. “Enforced relaxation via boiled phone.” 

He smiled. His eyes were still closed. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “Then I might be forced to tackle the towering pile of unread novels that’s collecting dust on my bedside table.”

“Ooh,” Piper said. “What kinds of unread novels are we talking here? Let me guess. Smutty romance novels about knights and mages.” 

He laughed. “Not quite. You’re going to think me a complete cliché, but I’m rather fond of courtroom thrillers. It’s difficult to find ones that are properly researched and accurate, however.” 

Piper grinned. “All right then, master critic. Tell me about the last novel you read that was properly researched to your standards.”

Cullen smirked and finally opened his eyes to look at her. “Would you believe it was _Swords and Shields?_ ”

Piper stared at him, then barked out an incredulous laugh. “You liar! You do read smutty romance novels!” 

Cullen shook his head. “That novel is a legal thriller first, and a smutty romance novel second.”

Piper couldn’t stop laughing. “‘Well researched’, you say,” she teased. “I’d like to know which parts _you_ thought were particularly well researched. Maybe the steamy scene in the police chief’s office-”

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered, and she laughed more wildly still. 

Their cheerful conversation bounced back and forth, moving from topic to topic as nighttime fell in earnest. But as the night sky deepened from midnight to navy to a deep and lustrous black, Piper noticed that Cullen’s responses were becoming softer and more languorous. 

He was falling asleep. His eyes were closed more often than not, and his breathing was growing slow and steady. Piper could see that he was trying to fight it, trying to keep up their talk, but the lure of sleep was clearly more than he could resist. 

He breathed in deeply through his nose. “The stars are lovely here,” he murmured. 

Piper smiled at his peaceful face. His eyes were shut, and he was a breath away from slipping into sleep. In his relaxed state, his lips were fuller than before, free from the tension of his workday stress, and for the millionth time, Piper wondered what his lips would taste like, when she eventually rustled up the courage to find out.

He was holding her hand still. Their fingers were tightly intertwined, a link of fond connection and a promise of more, and for Piper, that was enough. 

It was more than enough. In this moment of quiet peace, on the hood of Cullen’s car with his big strong hand curled over hers, it was everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The demon road is inspired by the Hana highway drive along the northeast coast of Maui. Has anyone done that drive? God, it’s spectacular. Especially if you’re not the one stuck driving. XD
> 
> Piper is the brainchild of the lovely and talented [Schoute on Tumblr!](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) Follow her for some GORGEOUS ART. And I am [Pikapeppa.](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) xoxo


	8. Jump

Piper cautiously pushed open the pristine glass doors of the twentieth-storey office and approached the reception desk. Behind the desk, on the impeccable black tile wallfront, the name of the business was printed in handsome silver lettering:

**_PENTAGHAST RUTHERFORD & NIGHTINGALE_ **

_Looks like I’m in the right place,_ Piper thought. She approached the desk and gave the receptionist a tentative smile. “Hey there,” she said. “I’m here for Cull- er, Mr. Rutherford…?”

The girl shot her a quick but warm smile while continuing to type. “Are you Piper?”

“Yep, that’s me,” Piper said, with a bit of surprise. Then she mentally shook her head. Of course they knew to expect her; look at how professional and fancy this place was. 

The receptionist nodded briskly, then tapped her headset and made a call while sliding a tablet across the desk to Piper. “Sign in there, please?” She smiled into the headset. “Yes, Piper is here for Cullen. All right, perfect.” She took the tablet back, then graciously waved to an elegant black couch before returning to her brisk typing. “Have a seat; Cullen’s assistant will be with you shortly.”

Piper smiled and nodded her thanks, then sank onto the couch and looked around with open curiosity. The decor was white and black with silver accents, and the sharp lines of the furniture were offset by simple rounded lamps with warm lighting. The overall feel was classic and classy, and practically screamed _expensive_.

Piper smirked as she tapped the toes of her dirty Docs on the floor. She definitely looked out of place here, with her torn shorts and her cropped t-shirt and her messy braid, but the contrast amused her more than anything else. 

In less than two minutes, a young woman in a pristine white shirt and slacks hurried over. “Piper?” she said, then smiled and gestured for Piper to follow her. “I’m Ritts, Cullen’s assistant. He’s just finishing up with the law students.” 

Piper nodded; Cullen had mentioned last night that he had to take over some of the teaching duties of the associate who had gone on family leave. Yet another unavoidable problem that had been piled on his plate. 

She followed Ritts through the office with wide eyes. It was a veritable hive of action, with besuited people bustling in and out of offices and conference rooms having brisk conversations and tapping at their phones. Actually, _hive_ was a good word for it; everyone was buzzing with energy and moving with purpose. The sheer level of activity had Piper’s heart beating faster, and she didn’t even work here. Given the intensity of the atmosphere, she understood why Cullen was constantly working. 

“Is it always this busy?” she asked Ritts.

“Hmm? Oh, well - not quite like this, no,” Ritts admitted. “You may have seen the news about Samson. Since then, there have been some readjustments in the structure of our-” 

“Oh, right,” Piper interrupted hastily. Of course it was busier than usual; stupid of her to even ask. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, then tried to come up with something more lighthearted to say. 

“So, do you guys do casual Fridays here?” she asked with a smirk.

Ritts shot her a quick smile. “We have business-casual Fridays. Does that count?”

Piper shrugged and tucked her hands in her pockets. “Not really. But that explains why Cullen doesn’t own any t-shirts.”

Ritts’s smile broadened. “You know, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.” She slowed down as they approached a conference room, and Ritts peeked inside. 

She turned to look at Piper. “He’s just finishing up. Do you want to see?”

Piper’s eyes widened. “Mythal’s ass, do I ever.” She eagerly peeked around the corner of the door with Ritts.

Cullen was standing at the front of the conference room, and he was in full-out stern-lawyer mode as he critiqued a pair of students: a young human man and a dwarven woman. Four other students were sitting around the table and madly typing on their laptops as he spoke. 

“Never forget that it is not just the evidence you hold, but the way it’s presented,” he snapped. He glared at the chastised-looking man and gestured at his dwarven counterpart. “If Harding was your opposing counsel, your case would be dead,” he scolded the young man. Then he turned his stern gaze on the woman. “Harding, don’t hold back. Jim here must prepare for a real trial, not a practice one.” 

The dwarven woman nodded. “Yes, Cullen.” 

Cullen scowled and ran a hand through his hair, then placed his palms on the conference table. “Now, you’re all going to continue to work this case. Study up on _Skyhold Incorporated vs. Movran_ for precedent.” Then he lifted his frowning face toward the door. 

He met Piper’s eyes, and his face instantly turned pink. He straightened up and ran a hand along his tie, then glowered at the students once more. “Back to your desks,” he commanded. “We’ll try this again in two days’ time.”

The students quickly collected their things and filed out of the room past Piper and Ritts. Then Cullen was striding toward her with a smile lifting his blushing cheeks. 

“Piper! I’m glad you’re here. Please, come to my office.” He ushered her out of the room with a gentle hand at the small of her back. 

He turned to Ritts as he led Piper down the hall. “My next appointment is a meeting with Thrask at one o’clock, yes?” 

“That’s right,” Ritts said. “Can I bring anything for either of you in the meantime?”

“No, thank you,” he said. He slowed as they reached a corner office and pulled out a key card. “Buzz me at twelve fifty-five, would you?”

“Of course,” Ritts said. She smiled at Piper, then disappeared into a small office kitty-corner to Cullen’s.

Cullen opened the door and gallantly ushered Piper inside, and she looked around his office with interest. It was more simply decorated than the main office, with a mahogany desk and two chairs for clients, a few shelves of books and a single framed photo of his rugby team, but the majority of Piper’s attention was pulled to the view. 

The floor-to-ceiling windows spanned two walls of his office. She admired the bird’s eye view of Hightown, then turned to Cullen with a smile. “Well well, counsellor. Look at this place. Corner office with huge windows and a couch for naps? You haven’t done too badly for yourself.”

He shot her a chiding smirk. “It’s possible that I have a touch of claustrophobia. And don’t be fooled; I have never had a chance to use that couch.” He walked around to his desk and unlocked a drawer, then pulled out a small brown leather wallet. 

Piper sighed with relief. “Thank you so much. I almost shat myself when I couldn’t find it this morning.” She took her wallet from his hand and popped it into her backpack. 

“I’m sorry you had to come here to retrieve it,” he said. “I should have brought it to you. It would have been the least I could do, given your patience with me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Piper, I know you don’t want me to say it, but-”

“Don’t you dare apologize again,” she scolded. “You clearly needed the sleep. And you didn’t ruin the date. I had a really great time.” 

“Even though I snored during the entire drive home?” he drawled. 

She laughed. “Even though you snored.” 

He huffed and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, that is a relief.” He lowered his hand and studied her for a moment with a goofy little smile.

Piper smiled at him in return, and they both laughed. Cullen tugged at his tie. “I wish I could take you for lunch, but I have to write a progress report for the blasted students,” he lamented. “I’m already late to submit it…” 

“It’s fine,” Piper interrupted firmly. “You have a lot to do. I totally understand.” If she was honest, she was happy to see him even for five minutes. 

She cocked her head. “So you haven’t had lunch yet?”

He shook his head. “No. At this rate, it’s unlikely-”

“Let me get you something!” she said brightly. “I’ll grab you a sandwich at that café downstairs.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “Oh, Piper, no that’s - it’s not necessary,” he said. “Ritts will fetch me something.”

“No way! Ritts is just as busy as the rest of you,” Piper said. “I don’t have to be anywhere for another hour and a half. I’m getting you something.” 

“Piper, please, there’s no need…”

She shot him a forbidding look. “You’re going to eat because I said so. Rowdy bartender’s advice is the best advice, remember?”

Cullen wilted and gave her a look of fond exasperation. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. She reached for the doorknob.

“Wait,” Cullen protested. He strode over to her while fumbling through his pocket. “I refuse to let you pay.” He pulled a crumpled bill and a handful of scattered change from his pocket. 

It was Piper’s turn to be exasperated. “Cullen, please, it’s just a little lunch.”

“No,” he said firmly. “If you’re insisting on bringing me something, then I insist that I pay.”

She rolled her eyes. “All right, counsellor, since you’re being so stubborn.” 

He carefully gave her the handful of money and a chiding smile. “I don’t believe I’m the stubborn one here.” 

She grinned at him and shoved the money into her pocket. “I totally disagree. I’ll be back soon, byeee!” She pulled open his office door and hurried down the hall before he could come up with any more protests. 

She made her way back to the reception desk and signed out on the tablet, then skipped into the elevator. She strolled over to the café in the lobby and selected a sandwich and salad from the menu, along with an earl grey tea. 

She idly jangled the money in her pocket as she waited, then pulled out the coins and began counting them, figuring she would use up as much of Cullen’s small change as possible. But as she was sorting through the handful of coins, one slightly larger coin caught her attention. 

She frowned curiously. The coin was larger than a quarter and an odd brassy colour. She studied the engraving on it, and her heart shoved itself into her throat. 

_Lyrium Anonymous_  
_5 years_  
_Acceptance - Commitment - Faith_

It was a sobriety coin. A sobriety coin for lyrium addiction. 

Piper’s entire face felt like it was prickling with pins and needles as she stared at the coin. The breath was frozen in her chest, like an icy vice of shock around her lungs. When the guy at the counter called her name, she jumped and almost dropped the handful of change. 

She hastily shoved the sobriety coin back in her pocket. Her mind was reeling as she counted out the money and dropped it into the café worker’s hand. “Thanks,” she mumbled, then picked up her order from the counter.

She walked over to the nearest table and set the food down, then sank into the chair and tried to breathe normally. Her body seemed to have made a swift 180 from frozen shock to sudden panic, and her heart was racing with anxiety. 

Cullen hadn’t told her he used to be addicted to lyrium, had he? No, there was no way he’d told her; she never would have forgotten something like that. But this was a huge thing to conceal. All the phone conversations they’d had, the even longer conversations during their dates… 

Why hadn’t he told her? It wasn’t like it mattered if he was a recovering lyrium addict. If anything, it just made his success all the more impressive. And he’d clearly beaten the worst of the addiction if he was five years sober. So why hadn’t he said anything?

_He lied._ The ugly, accusatory thought swiftly reared its head, like a sleeping dragon just waiting for the chance to strike. _He was hiding this from you on purpose. If he was hiding something this big, what else is he hiding?_

Piper buried her spinning head in her hands. No, no, she did _not_ want to think this way about him. Things were going so well. He was sweet and considerate and reliable, and he’d given her no reason to mistrust him so far.

She scraped her fingers through her hair as though to peel the negative thoughts out of her scalp by force. She had no reason to think Cullen had purposely lied or hidden this from her. He was probably going to tell her eventually, and he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. 

_Right,_ the snide and skeptical voice told her. _And you probably think Peronn would eventually have gotten around to telling you he was going to rob you blind, right?_

Piper covered her eyes with a trembling hand. Fuck, had she done this again? Fallen for someone who was hiding a huge part of themselves from her? Trusted someone blindly and failed to see something obvious and huge that was right beneath her nose? 

She sat for a long minute as she tried to decide what to do. Ashamed though she was to admit it, she was seriously considering just standing up and walking out of the building right now and not coming back. Part of her heart remembered with far too much clarity the way Peronn had stroked and then lightly slapped her beaten face, and that part of her wanted to turn on her heel and run away rather than risk being hurt again. 

She forced herself to ignore it. She should at least give Cullen a chance to explain. To tell her why he had a five-year lyrium sobriety coin in his pocket that he hadn’t told her about. Who knew? Maybe it wasn’t even his coin.

_And maybe cows will fly over Minrathous,_ she thought viciously. Gods, she really was desperate to trust him, wasn’t she?

Her thoughts bounced fruitlessly through her mind as she sat at the table. She wanted to ask him about the coin, but she also really didn’t want to, just in case he told her something terrible. She wanted to run away from him, tuck her feelings back into the part of her hardened heart that he’d cracked open with his kindness and defend herself against any further hurt, but she also really just wanted… him.

Fucking Fen’Harel take her, but she wanted him. She wanted the Cullen that he’d been offering to her all along: patience and caring, bashfulness with a wry twist of humour, and the openness of his affection. She wanted _that_ Cullen, and she was terrified that by asking him about this damned brass coin in her pocket, she was going to learn that he was something completely different from the man he’d made himself out to be. 

Her phone chirped in her butt pocket, and she mindlessly pulled it out and tapped the screen.

It was a text from Cullen, swiftly followed by a second one. 

**12:25pm - Are you all right? Please tell me you didn’t get abducted in the lobby.**  
**12:25pm - Maker’s breath, that was a poor joke. I apologize. I sincerely hope everything is fine.**

She snorted with laughter, then placed the phone on the table and pressed the heels of her hands into her burning eyes. Why did it feel like she was standing right at the edge of a cliff just asking to be pushed off?

She breathed carefully for a few long seconds, then lowered her hands. Before she could change her mind, she picked up her phone and tapped out a reply. 

_12:26pm - sorrysorry, be back in a sec_

The message whisked away with a _swoosh_ , and Piper rose from the table and picked up the food and the cooling cup of tea. As she waited for the elevator to come, she tried to rustle up the courage to do what she needed to do. 

She managed to smile at the receptionist as she signed in, then focused on putting one foot in front of the other as she made her way back to Cullen’s office. If she focused on her feet, it would divert her from the anxious ache that was starting to pulse in her forehead.

She knocked softly on Cullen’s half-ajar door, then cautiously let herself and closed the door behind her when he waved her in. He was on the phone, and Piper placed his lunch on his desk while he scribbled a note. 

“Mm. Mhmm. No, that’s completely unacceptable. We can easily get that point dismissed.” He listened for another moment, then nodded sharply. “All right,” he said, then hung up without saying goodbye. 

He smiled up at her. “I was worried you’d gotten lost, but then I recalled you have an excellent sense of direction.”

Piper smiled weakly and plucked at one of her woven bracelets. “That’s me,” she said. “The best Dalish orienteer in Kirkwall, hands down.” 

Cullen smiled at her feeble jest, but his expression quickly faded into concern. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You seem nervous.”

She pressed her lips together and tugged at her bracelet, then reached into her pocket and pulled out the remainder of the money he’d given her. “I have your change,” she said. She hesitated for a second; then, with trembling fingers, she separated the sobriety coin from the others. 

“And this,” she said. She held out the coin to him. 

His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of the sobriety coin. “Ah,” he said. “My mistake. Obviously not something you could have paid with.” He took the coin, then raised his eyes to meet her gaze.

She carefully inspected his face. She didn’t see any panic in his expression, which was a good sign, but it wasn’t enough. 

She took a deep, bracing breath. “Cullen, why do you have that? Is it yours?”

“It is, yes,” he said softly. He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “You’re wondering why I didn’t tell you about it before.”

“Kind of, yeah,” she hedged. She dropped her gaze to her hands and idly twisted one of her many silver rings. She instinctively wanted to draw back into herself, to brush him off and tell him not to worry about it. But she suspected that the uncertainty of the situation would torture her if she didn’t hear it now. 

She took a deep breath. “Can you talk about this now? Do you have time? I mean - I know you’re busy, that appointment at one o’clock…” 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. I have time to talk about this.” He reached out and took her hand, then pulled her closer. 

He looked her straight in the eye. “I was addicted to lyrium when I was in university,” he told her bluntly. “After my knee injury. I was prescribed lyrium for the pain, but I failed to follow the doctor’s instructions.” He shrugged. “I suppose I thought I would heal faster if I took a larger dose than recommended. Unfortunately, my strategy backfired, and I became dependent on the drug.”

Piper nervously licked her lips and settled against the edge of his desk. “For how long?” 

“Nearly a year,” he said. “I… I hid it for nearly a year. But Cassandra was suspicious; we went to school together, you see, though she was a year above me. She could tell I wasn’t sleeping, that I’d lost my edge, and I eventually confessed the problem to her. She helped me to confront it. Encouraged me to join Lyrium Anon.” 

Piper nodded slowly and twisted a nervous finger in the end of her braid. “So… this was… you were what, twenty at the time?” 

“Thereabouts, yes,” Cullen said. He turned the brassy coin over in his fingers. “It has been some time since I went regularly to the meetings, as you can see. But if things ever get, er, difficult… cravings during times of stress, for example… Cassandra still has my back, and the meetings are always there.” He studied the coin for a moment longer, then looked at her. “I keep this to remember that help is always there, if I should need it.” 

Piper nodded. She could imagine the scenario he painted all too well: a twenty-year-old Cullen, so driven and ambitious, suddenly being laid low by an unexpected injury and wanting to heal as quickly as possible so he could get back to his life.

It made complete sense, given his character. She could see it so clearly. It must have been awful for him, to want so badly to do the right thing but to be caught in the throes of an addictive drug…

She ran her hands through her hair and clasped her cheeks in her hands. “I am so sorry,” she blurted. “I’m so insensitive. That must have been so shitty for you, and here I am just bursting into your office demanding you tell me about this shitty thing that happened to you…”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it in both of his. “I am the one who should apologize,” he said. “I should have told you before. I would have, if the topic had arisen, but…” He sighed and shook his head. “Foolish of me, to hope it would. When do such topics ever arise in polite conversation?” 

Despite the sympathetic ache in her chest, she gave him a cheeky smile. “Who ever said our conversations had to be polite? Look who you’re talking to.” She plucked at her black t-shirt, which boasted the slogan _FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCK_. 

He shot her a tiny smirk, and she relaxed slightly at his humorous expression. Then she realized something. 

She slowly seated herself on his desk. “This topic did kind of come up, though,” she said slowly. “When we were talking about Samson.” 

Cullen’s eyes rose to her face, and she grimaced slightly at his frown. “I mean, I know that was only like the second time we talked or whatever,” she acknowledged, “but…” She shrugged. “He’s… I mean… maybe what he’s going through is similar to what you were going through?”

Cullen waved his hand emphatically. “The situation is not similar,” he said firmly. “Samson is a licenced practitioner of the law. I make no excuses for my behaviour in the past, but if I was in his place right now, I would march up to the Bar Association and demand that they take my licence away.” 

Piper nibbled the inside of her cheek for a moment. “So you still don’t know why… I mean, how his lyrium habit came about?” she asked.

“No, I don’t,” Cullen snapped. “And it doesn’t matter how it came about. The consequences are damning enough.”

Piper raised her eyebrows. _Harsh,_ she thought. Again, it struck her as odd that he was being this harsh to someone he’d considered a friend. And he’d told her that the majority of his pro bono clients were people who had committed small crimes and desperately needed a second chance. What was it about this Samson guy that was making Cullen act so severe?

It seemed that her thoughts were clear on her face; Cullen leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “You believe I am being strong-handed. Uncompromising.” 

She shrugged slightly and made a little face. “I mean… you came up with those descriptions pretty quickly.” She tilted her head. “Has someone called you those things before?” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “My sister Mia,” he muttered. “She calls me a lawyer both in and out of the courtroom. And not necessarily in a good way.”

Piper didn’t answer for a moment. Then, tentatively, she reached for his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m… well, I’m sorry for bringing this up. I know it must be hard to talk about, and…” She bit her lip, then raised her eyes to his face. “You… I’m… thank you,” she said finally. “For telling me and… trusting me.”

More than anything else about his story, _that_ was the thing that struck her: that he’d trusted her with it so readily. She’d asked him about this intense, personal thing, this terrible time he’d lived through, and he’d told her without even a hint of reluctance.

All she’d had to do was ask, and Cullen had opened himself up completely. 

Her eyes were stinging again. She dropped them to her lap to hide the stupid tears before they could fall.

He sighed and gently squeezed her hand in return. “You shouldn’t be thanking me. I’m… I should not be snapping at you. It’s Samson I’m angry at, not you. And…” He sighed. “Honestly, maybe I am angry because… Samson’s problems strike a little bit too close to home.” He shook his head. “If not for Cassandra, I might not be too far from him. I might… be him.” 

Piper lifted her eyes to his face. “But you’re not,” she said firmly. “You got help when you needed it. You admitted there was a problem and you accepted Cassandra’s help. That’s not small thing, you know.” 

Cullen studied her face sadly. “Isn’t it? In the end, I lost almost a year of my life to lyrium. If I had admitted sooner that something was off-”

Piper shook her head. “You got the help you needed. And you’re still asking for help when things get tough. That’s what matters.” And it was just one more thing about him to admire: he didn’t do the toxic typical-guy thing of acting all tough and invulnerable when shit was hitting the fan. He asked for help, and he openly told Piper what was troubling him while simultaneously apologizing for burdening her… 

Gods, he was just so wonderful. And he was making it so fucking hard for her to not fall in love with him. 

She met his warm chestnut eyes. He was gazing at her with a mix of melancholy and hope, and her heart was swollen and aching in her chest with warmth and fear and breathless anticipation. 

Without releasing her hand, Cullen slowly rose from his chair. Piper swallowed hard as he took a step closer to her, and then she was sliding off of his desk and facing him, gazing up at him and taking in the heated affection that was painted across his handsome face… 

His hand rose to cradle her neck, and the breath stalled in her throat. She tilted her face up-

Cullen’s desk phone buzzed. 

He and Piper froze. Then, with a visibly clenched jaw, Cullen hit the intercom button. “Yes?” he barked. 

A perverse little shiver of excitement ran down Piper’s spine at the growl in his voice. Then Ritts’s voice emanated from the intercom. “Jim is here - he’s wondering if that progress report is ready.”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Blasted Jim,” he muttered. Then he took a step away from Piper and exhaled heavily.

He met her gaze, and his tiny smile was the dictionary definition of _rueful_. “I am sorry, Piper, but… apparently I must get back to this.” 

Piper nodded wordlessly, then took a cautionary step back from his desk. If she didn’t step back now, she was fairly sure she would jump on him instead. “Will you come somewhere with me tomorrow morning, really early?” she asked. 

His eyebrows rose as he seated himself in his chair once more. “How early are you thinking?”

She hesitated, then laughed as his expression became suspicious. “Would four a.m. be all right with you?” She winced as she waited for his response.

His eyebrows almost buried themselves in his hairline. “Are _you_ all right with four in the morning? Won’t you be exhausted from your shift?”

“If I can look forward to seeing you? Never,” she said. She tilted her head in a wheedling manner. 

His surprised expression melted into amusement, and he chuckled. “I can’t resist that face. Yes, I will come somewhere with you at four o’ clock.” He tapped at his mouse, then raised one eyebrow at her as he started to type. “Dare I ask where you’ll be taking me?”

_Somewhere romantic,_ she thought. After this conversation and the revelations she’d had - not just about Cullen, but about herself - she was desperate to take him somewhere special. 

She tapped her nose. “It’s a surprise.”

He gave her an exasperated smile. “All right. I will see you tomorrow. Or tonight for you, as the case may be.” 

She grinned in triumph, then regretfully stepped away. “I’ll text you where to meet me,” she said. She blew him a kiss and slipped out of his office. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets and smiled to herself as she sauntered down the hall. Already her belly was thrumming with anticipation as she thought about seeing him tonight. 

The location she had in mind was a perfect vantage point for watching the sunrise together, and for showing Cullen that she was ready: ready to take his hand in hers, and to take the affection that he’d been offering her so openly all this time.

All she needed was the perfect spot.

*******************

Cullen raised one eyebrow as he pulled into the parking lot. “The Bone Pit?”

“Yes!” Piper said brightly. “Have you ever been hiking here?”

“No,” Cullen said. “And certainly not at this hour. Are we even allowed to be here right now?” They got out of the car together, and Cullen frowned at the visitors’ sign at the front of the parking lot. 

“No, not until seven a.m.,” he confirmed. He turned to her with a chiding look. “Piper…”

She batted her eyelashes prettily. “Come on, counsellor, live a little! If we get fined, I’ll pay it. I promise.”

He studied her for a moment longer, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “All right, you win. Where are we headed from here?”

“This way,” she said happily. She pulled off her boots and socks and tossed them back in the car, then took his hand and led him toward the entrance to her favourite trail. 

“Thank you for not asking me to remove my shoes,” Cullen said wryly. 

She grinned. “Next time, maybe. I’ll let you make all the human trampling noises you want for now.” She flicked on the flashlight she’d brought, then looked up at him as they made their way along the pitch dark trail. “D’you know why they call it the Bone Pit?” 

“I heard that it hearkens back to old Tevinter history. It was a site of, er…” He cleared his throat. “Many elven slaves were sacrificed here, from what I understand.”

“Yep. It’s a pretty fucking grim history,” she said. “But I like to think it’s all the elven bodies that make this forest so lush and green.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “We do have magic in our blood, after all.” 

“Lush and green, is it? I wouldn’t know.” To Piper’s keen elven eyes, Cullen’s smirk was clear, but his hand was tight on hers as she led him through the dark. 

_Poor sweet human,_ she thought sympathetically; she could see how the darkened woods could be nerve-wracking for people with such poor night vision.

She chuckled and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “You’ll see when we’re leaving, then,” she said. “I personally think this is the most gorgeous green spot near Kirkwall. It’s almost as nice as the Planasene Forest.” 

Cullen hummed appreciatively. “High praise indeed. Though I’ve never been hiking there, either.”

His tone was distinctly wistful now, and Piper squeezed his hand encouragingly. 

They walked the rest of the trail without speaking, out of respect for the wildlife. The only sounds were their soft breathing and the crunching of Cullen’s shoes on the leaf- and pebble-strewn path, and as they drew closer to Piper’s destination, her heart began to race with excitement.

Finally the trees thinned out, and Piper led Cullen from the pitch black of the forest into a grassy clearing facing east. They traversed the clearing hand-in-hand until they reached its edge: a sheer drop of about six metres that ended in the calm waves of the Waking Sea. 

Piper watched Cullen from the corner of her eye as he studied the view. The merest hints of orange were painting the horizon, casting a pale light into the darkness of the sky, and she smiled as his face lit up with contentment. 

“This is…” He shook his head. “This is truly breathtaking.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” Piper murmured.

Cullen smiled at her. He looked so happy, and his eyes were so soft that Piper fancied she could feel his gaze on her face like the sweetest caress. 

She dropped her eyes shyly, then gave him a mischievous smile. “There’s another reason this place is called the Bone Pit, actually.”

“And why is that?” Cullen asked. 

She bit her lip in amusement. “Well,” she said innocently, “it turns out that since this is such a pretty location, it’s where a lot of people come to, you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows. 

“What?” Cullen said blankly. Then his jaw dropped, and his face turned utterly red. 

“Oh. _Oh,_ ” he said. He tugged nervously at his collar. “I… oh. Oh Maker. Did you… Piper, I - were you - um…”

She burst out laughing and fondly squeezed his arm. “No, no! I’m not that much of an animal.” _Not yet, at least,_ she thought mischievously. She smiled up at his flushed face. “I honestly brought you here because it’s a beautiful spot. The fact that it’s a popular place for teenage hook-ups is just a hilarious bonus.”

“I see,” Cullen said slowly. He looked over his shoulder, and Piper laughed some more as his gaze darted around the empty clearing, as though he expected a bunch of naked couples to suddenly appear behind them. 

She slid her hand down his arm to twine her fingers with his once more. “Don’t worry, if there had been anyone here I would have taken us elsewhere. It’s just you, me, and the view.”

“I’m thankful for that,” Cullen said softly. He met her eyes once more, and despite the lingering flush of his cheeks, his expression was steady and… rather bold. 

He lifted his other hand and carefully brushed an errant lock of silver hair away from her face, kicking her heart back into a giddy gallop. “Was there some special reason you brought me here this morning?” he murmured. 

She licked her lips nervously, then nodded. She took a deep breath and glanced at the horizon once more. 

It was time to be brave. To cast off the shadows of her past once and for all, and to embrace everything that she’d been both been running towards and shying away from for the past month and a half. 

It was time to run toward Cullen with no inhibitions. It was time to make her own luck.

She looked up at him once more. “Is your phone waterproof?”

Cullen’s expression shifted from softness to surprise. “Er, yes,” he said. “Why?”

She nodded, then jerked her head at the water. “Jump with me,” she said. 

He stared at her with wide eyes. Piper took his other hand, then squeezed them both as she turned to face him. “I’m… Cullen, I’m weird and squirrelly, and you’ve asked me questions about myself that I’ve been all shifty about answering, and-”

He squeezed her hands in return. “Piper, that’s all right. If you need time-”

“No,” she interrupted. “I’m done with needing time. I’m done with… that’s what I’m trying to say. I’m… I want to jump in. With you.” She swallowed hard. “Will you jump with me?”

He stared at her for a moment longer, then stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Absolutely,” he said. 

She smiled slowly at him, then released one of his hands and stepped closer to the cliff’s edge. People did this jump all the time. She’d done it herself more than once. But never with another person. 

Cullen tightened his fingers between her own, and Piper smiled at him. “Are you scared?” she asked. 

He studied the water apprehensively for a moment, then smirked at her. “I would be foolish not to be a little bit scared. But I trust you.” 

Her smile widened. That was all that mattered, really. 

“Okay,” she said. “On three. Ready?” 

He nodded. “I am.”

Piper grinned giddily, then took a deep breath. “Okay. One, two… _three!_ ”

She ran off the ledge, and Cullen ran with her. Then the wind was whistling in her ears, wind and her own laughter and Cullen’s shout, and Piper took a deep breath as the waves rushed toward their feet- 

They plunged into the chilly water, and Piper squeezed her eyes shut as the water filled her ears and pulled her into a murky silence. She released Cullen’s hand, then kicked her way to the surface. 

She gasped in an elated breath, then grinned as Cullen popped to the surface and swiftly pushed his sodden golden hair back with one hand. He blew out a relieved breath, then smiled at her. “Now what?” he shouted over the susurrus of the waves. 

“Now we get our asses back to shore!” she shouted back. She swam to the nearest hard surface - a copse of large boulders just north of the cliff face - then hefted herself onto a large flat boulder.

She stretched her legs out and leaned her weight back on her palms, then smiled as Cullen joined her on the boulder. “See, that wasn’t so scary, was it-?”

Cullen kissed her. Slid his hand into her soaking hair and pulled her close and kissed her, and Piper lost her breath and her wits and every final scrap of her worries as Cullen’s beautiful scarred lips pulled at her own. 

She was dizzy, lightheaded and mindless with delight. She slid her own fingers into his hair, and he shifted closer to her, and then Piper was laying back on the boulder as Cullen loomed over her, his hand cradling her neck and his abdomen brushing against hers as he stretched out beside her. 

His lips, the heat of his tongue, his hand on her nape… She was floating, floating in a way that mere water could never quite replicate, because nothing had ever felt quite like this: the uninhibited kiss exchanged with someone she trusted completely. 

Soon, far too soon, Cullen gently stroked her cheek and peeled his lips away from her own. Piper breathed hard as she studied him, and his breaths ghosted across her saltwater-dampened lips in turn. 

He smiled broadly. “That was, um… really nice.” 

She threw her head back and laughed, then stroked his neck. “ _That_ was what I really wanted,” she purred. 

His smile grew heated, and Piper’s happy heart thumped with a fresh thrill. “Good,” he whispered, and he kissed her once more. 

She kissed him back enthusiastically and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hand slid over her midriff, his fingers wrapping comfortably around her waist like they belonged there, and with every press of his lips and stroke of his thumb, Piper’s conviction grew.

She was ready: ready to run toward him on her swift bare feet, and to fly into his arms without inhibitions or fears. 

Piper was ready to jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE GOT KISSIES, WE GOT KISSIES!!! 
> 
> Please follow [Schouty on Tumblr](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) for more of that sweet Piperford goodness!
> 
> Here at Schoute's service am I, [Pikapeppa,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) your resident writer. xoxo


	9. Motorcycle

In the two weeks that followed Piper and Cullen’s sea-drenched kiss, Cullen got tied up by a veritable avalanche of work. 

His time was divided between dealing with the Bar Association as they investigated Samson’s infractions, dealing with his cases and the teaching caseload he had to shoulder, and finalizing the documentation for Hawke’s court hearing, which was coming up soon. He still managed to find the time to text Piper, small exchanges throughout the day as was their norm, but during the entire two weeks, they saw each other all of four times. 

On three occasions, Piper brought lunch to his office. He was in meetings with colleagues the first two times, and he barely had time to do more than thank her and apologize profusely. Each time, Piper waved him off and firmly told him not to worry about it, but the rushed little visits only heightened her eagerness to see him again.

The third time she brought him lunch, he was actually alone. Piper’s eyes widened in surprise as she gingerly pushed open his office door. 

“No lunchtime meeting today?” she asked. 

He looked up distractedly from his computer. “No. Not today,” he said brusquely. Then he ran a hand through his hair and shot her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It’s wonderful to see you.” He rose to his feet to greet her. 

She placed the Rivaini takeout container on his desk and shot him a chiding look. “No apologies, counsellor. I like your bark, remember?” She smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“But only so you can bite me back, yes,” Cullen finished mock-wearily. 

Piper laughed and leaned into his chest. His smile widened as he ran a hand over her silvery hair, and for a moment, she simply savoured the hardness of his abs beneath her palms. It was such a novelty just to touch him, to stand this close to him and to feel his heat through his crisp buttoned shirt, and Piper greedily curled her fingers against his body while she still had the privilege of being in his company. 

His fingers tightened in her hair for a brief moment, and Piper’s breath caught for a second at his gentle grip. Then he sighed and squeezed her arm. “I… I wish I had more time, Piper. But I have two depositions to review before five o’clock. May we speak later tonight?” 

“Of course,” she said. She reluctantly took a step away from him. “I’ll call you during my break.”

He smiled and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I look forward to it,” he said. 

His thumb lingered on her jaw, and Piper’s eyes darted up to his face. He was studying her with such warmth, that lovely giddy-making warmth that stoked an answering heat in her chest, and as Piper met his gaze, the smile faded from his lips.

He bit his lower lip in an unconscious gesture, and Piper breathed in slowly. They hadn’t kissed again since their jump into the Waking Sea. They hadn’t mentioned the kiss, either, but not because of awkwardness or regret – no, Piper had no regrets at all. In her mind, there was no need to talk about the kiss, or what would come next. 

In Piper’s mind, Cullen was hers. She wanted him, his brilliant mind and his tender heart and his gorgeous fucking body. More importantly, she _trusted_ him. Their being together was inevitable; it was only a matter of time. The only thing now standing in the way was the monstrous obstacle of his workload, and Piper was more than willing to wait until things calmed down for him – which, at the very least, Hawke’s completed court hearing was sure to help with in just a week. 

But the way he was looking at her right now was scrambling her brain, and she was suddenly wondering why they hadn’t yet kissed again. 

Cullen clearly felt the same. His thumb drifted to the angle of her jaw, then his fingers were slipping into her hair, and Piper rose onto her tiptoes to meet his parted lips. 

He inhaled sharply, then his other hand was at the small of her back and pulling her close, and Piper gasped against his lips as the coolness of his belt buckle grazed her belly. She gripped his collar and pressed herself against him, and he groaned softly as she nipped his lower lip.

Gods, that _groan_. That fucking hint of desire, a hint of Cullen losing his inhibitions – the very idea of it lit a shameless streak of heat between her legs. 

His fingers pressed into her nape, and Piper whimpered into his mouth at the firmness of his touch. Then he suddenly broke the kiss.

She lowered herself to her heels and leaned against his desk. She grinned at him as he exhaled hard and ran a hand through his hair. “Now _that_ is a goodbye kiss,” she said breathlessly, and she threw her head back and laughed. 

Cullen rubbed his mouth, then smiled at her. “You… I always knew you were trouble.”

“Me?” she protested merrily. “You started it! With your smoldering look on that handsome face of yours…”

His already-pink cheeks flushed bright red, and Piper laughed again as she pushed herself away from the desk. She ruffled a slightly-trembling hand through her hair. “All right, counsellor, I’ll call you later–” 

“A moment, actually,” Cullen said. “Are you… do you have plans this afternoon?”

She turned to him in surprise. “Not really. I was going to go chill on the patio at Athenril’s since the weather’s so nice. Make some jewelry, read my book… Why?”

“Ah, I see.” Cullen smoothed a hand over his tie and took a step back toward his desk. “Well – no, no reason. I… have a good afternoon.”

Her eyebrows rose even higher. “Cullen, what did you have in mind?” Hadn’t he said he had depositions to look over?

His ears were flushing now. He waved a dismissive hand as he sat at his desk. “Nothing. It was nothing. I…” He trailed off as Piper stubbornly folded her arms, then finally sighed. “Well. I was going to ask if you would like to stay. You could take over the couch if you wanted; it might as well be used by somebody. And the guest wifi is very good. But you’re right, the weather is very nice, I wouldn’t want to deprive you…” 

He sounded so fucking flustered. Would it be awful if she kissed him again? “Cullen,” she interrupted. “I would love to stay.”

His eyebrows rose. “You would?”

“Obviously,” she said. She strolled over to his couch and plopped herself down. She immediately started taking off her boots, then glanced up at him with one Doc Marten half off. “Wait. Are _you_ sure I won’t be a distraction?”

“Well, no, I’m not sure. But please, stay,” he said hurriedly as Piper started putting her boots back on. He ran a hand through his hair. “Piper, I… I’ve been thinking. I work far too much, and unfortunately, that’s not likely to change. But you… I would like us to spend more time together. I thought, perhaps if I could do my work in your presence…” 

Piper tilted her head quizzically, and Cullen sighed. “I’m not being clear,” he muttered. He squared his shoulders. “I wouldn’t work while we are on dates. That is _not_ what I mean.”

“Well, that’s good,” Piper said. “Because I’d have to punch you. Or confiscate your phone. Probably both.” She smiled teasingly at him, and he scoffed. 

“Yes, quite,” he said. “No, what I mean is… moments like this. Where I am forced to be here, and… well, if you don’t have other plans that take you elsewhere, you could… spend your time here if you wanted. Or at night, when you’re not working but I am obligated to work, I could… if you wanted me to come over, I mean. I don’t want to presume…” He wrinkled his nose and rubbed his forehead. “It hardly sounds romantic when I put it this way. What you must think…” 

“No,” Piper protested. “I love it. I think it’s a great idea.”

He looked at her hopefully. “You do?”

“Of course!” she said. She kicked her boots off and curled her legs up on his couch, then smiled at him. “If you have to work, we might as well hang out together while you’re doing it. You’d have to get used to it eventually if we… er. Anyway.” Now it was Piper’s turn to feel a bit awkward. She wasn’t quite ready to admit that she’d been fantasizing about them sleeping over at each other’s apartments when they hadn’t even slept together yet.

She regrouped quickly from her awkwardness. “I want to see more of you, too,” she told him. “So yes. I think this is a great idea. As long as we still go on nice dates, too.”

“Of course,” Cullen said. He was beaming at her. “I need those dates, I can assure you. They prevent my head from exploding.” 

Piper chuckled. “Good. Well, counsellor, you’d better get to work then. I’m very busy with lots of things to do, so don’t distract me.” She gave him a cheeky smile, then placed her phone on the arm of the couch and shuffled around in her backpack until she found her box of beads and the leather cords she’d trimmed for a new bracelet this morning.

She pulled the jewelry supplies out and placed them on the couch, then popped her earphones in. She tapped around on her phone and selected a playlist, then put the phone down and placed the tied-off end of the leather cords between her first two toes to hold them in place while she started to braid. 

She braided the cords for a few stitches, then picked out a green bead and slid it onto one cord. Then she glanced up. 

Cullen was watching her. He straightened as she caught his eye, but the goofy smile didn’t leave his face, and Piper could feel the tips of her ears warming with pleasure.

He looked so happy. He looked exactly like how she felt when she thought about him. She laughed and coyly tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’re not working,” she playfully accused. 

“I know,” he said softly. He reached for his keyboard. “I was temporarily enchanted.” He clicked around on his computer, then leaned forward and pulled over the takeout container she’d brought for him. He opened it and began to eat while reading whatever was on his screen. 

Piper returned to her braiding, but she couldn’t help but glance his way every now and then. He ate his food almost mindlessly while he worked, and when he was finished eating, he leaned forward and idly stroked the scar on his lip while he read.

A nearly painful swelling of fondness rose in her chest as she watched him. He was too cute, with his lawyer-y pout and his fancy suit…

She picked up her phone and tapped on her messaging app.

_12:37pm - i like you._   
_12:37pm - just thought you’d like to know xo_

She sent the messages to Cullen. A second later, his phone vibrated on his desk, and he reached for it distractedly without breaking his gaze from his computer screen. 

He looked at the screen, and a smile broke across his face. He shot Piper a slightly exasperated look, but he couldn’t quell the smile. “Why are you texting me?” he said. “We’re sitting in the same room.” 

She laughed. “What do you mean? Hawke and I do this all the time!” 

“Why?” Cullen asked incredulously. 

She grinned and continued braiding her bracelet. “Why not? It’s fun! And besides, sometimes a gif is worth a thousand words.”

He shook his head and put his phone down. “Frivolous,” he muttered, but he was still smirking as he returned his focus to his screen.

Piper chuckled as she slid a bead onto another cord. A minute later, she heard the text chirp through her earphones.

She glanced at the lock screen of her phone to find two new messages from Cullen.

**12:40pm - I like you too, Piper.**   
**12:40pm - Very, very much, in fact.**

She grinned at him. His eyes were on his screen, but he was smiling and his ears were pink. 

She picked up her phone. 

_12:40pm - <3 x 100000_   
_12:40pm - i’m finished distracting you now i promise xoxo_

She sent the texts, and he grinned as he read them. As Piper continued to braid her bracelet, she pondered the wonderful strangeness of life. Eight months ago, she would never have believed she’d be lounging on a couch in a lawyer’s swanky office making Dalish bracelets. Six months ago, when she’d first arrived in Kirkwall, she’d never have believed she could be this happy.

Now, as she and Cullen sat together in an affectionate silence, Piper thought that maybe – just maybe – she could do this for the rest of her life.

******************

The fourth time they saw each other was on Piper’s night off, two days before Hawke’s court hearing. 

Cullen had come over to her condo, and he and Piper were lying on her bed watching a movie on her laptop. Cullen had brought a briefcase stuffed with legal briefs and reports, and his plans to get some work done had started off well. He’d spread his papers and his tablet out on the glass-topped coffee table, and Piper had made him a cup of tea, and he’d started working while Piper had started _The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo_ on her laptop.

Eventually, however, Cullen had become distracted by the movie, which he somehow hadn’t yet seen. Twenty minutes later, they’d moved upstairs to stretch out on Piper’s bed, and Piper was contentedly curled against his side as they watched the movie. 

Piper sighed wistfully. “Lucky fucking Lisbeth with her bike. I mean, it’s a Honda, but still…”

Cullen idly stroked her shoulder. “What do you mean?” 

Piper waved dismissively at the laptop, which was resting on Cullen’s thighs. “Her motorcycle. It’s a Honda. They’re reliable and all, but not very sexy.” She shifted slightly and tucked her head under Cullen’s chin. “A Kawasaki, on the other hand… now that would have been a better choice for Lisbeth. A fast, sexy bike with excellent handling? Phew.” She fanned herself playfully. 

Cullen’s stroking fingers fell still, and he looked at her in surprise. “Are you a motorcycle aficionado?”

“Yep,” Piper said. She smirked. “Don’t you remember my story about the rental motorcycle?” 

“How could I forget,” Cullen drawled, and she grinned. “But i didn't realize you knew so much about them.”

“Yeah,” Piper said. She idly rubbed the fabric of his shirt between her fingers. “I wanted one for a really long time. I mean, I still want one.” 

Cullen was quiet for a moment, and Piper lifted herself on her elbow to smirk at him. “You disapprove?”

“No,” Cullen said. “That is, well… I don’t _love_ the idea of you on a motorcycle. I’ve handled too many personal injury claims with motorcycle accidents to _not_ be leery about them, but… I would support you if you wanted one.” 

“Aw,” Piper crooned. She playfully chucked his chin. “That’s sweet. I’d let you be my first passenger for being so sweet.”

Cullen huffed with amusement, and they turned their attention back to the movie once more. A few minutes later, however, Cullen spoke again. 

“Why don’t you have a motorcycle?” 

Piper laughed, a little nervously. “I’m poor, obviously. I can’t afford one,” she said. This conversation was edging in a direction that Piper could easily predict, and the prospect of broaching this topic with Cullen – of talking about her dearly-coveted motorcycle, and the real reason she didn’t have one… 

It was terrifying. The thought of digging into that ugly well, bringing up those memories of her stupidity and her failure, and – worst of all – showing them to someone? She could already feel her heart rate rising at the mere thought. She didn’t want to talk about this. But this was one of her worst moments, one of her ugliest moments, and Cullen had told her about his worst moment without hesitating...

She paused the movie and sat up slowly, and Cullen sat up with her. She ran a hand through her unruly mass of hair while Cullen put the laptop aside and sat back against the headboard. His face was curious and open, so open and trusting and trustworthy… 

She shuffled around to face him and crossed her legs. “I’ve always wanted a motorcycle,” she said. “Even when I was a kid. I used to pretend my bike was a motorcycle when I was a kid riding around with my clanmates. A couple of the older guys in my clan had motorcycles, and my dad asked them to let me clean and maintain their hogs so I could learn about the upkeep and all that. So I did that for years, and my dad always listened to me going on and on with my motorcycle bullshit. And then, uh, then he died.” 

She took a deep breath; the horrible suddenness of her father’s stroke was a story for another day. She glanced at Cullen’s calm expression before going on. “After he died, I decided I _had_ to get a motorbike. I just… _that_ was the time to start saving, and to stock up all my extra money and get myself a Kawasaki. So I left my clan and travelled around sleeping on people’s couches so I wouldn’t have to pay rent, and I worked any job I could find while I was travelling, and I socked it all up in a special account.”

That account now sat empty. Piper hadn’t put anything in it since the day of the incident. At first, even looking at the account number on her banking app had been painful. Now, she just… didn’t have the heart.

Cullen’s hand rested on her knee. His thumb gently stroked her bare skin. He didn’t speak, and he continued to watch her quietly, and she swallowed hard and tucked a few stray tendrils of hair behind her ears. 

“I, um. Remember I told you I was in Ansburg?” she said. 

“I remember,” Cullen said quietly.

Piper nodded. “I was there for a few months. I met some friends – well. Yeah, I guess they were… uh, friends, I guess. And, uh, they let me live with them for free.” She gave Cullen a sardonic look. “Super nice of them, right? And that’s totally normal, letting some random Dalish stranger live with you for free. Not suspicious at all, right?” She laughed.

Cullen squeezed her knee. She awkwardly rubbed her nose. “One of the ‘friends’ was a guy. This, um, this charming guy named, uh…” 

She trailed off as Peronn’s name curdled at the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want to say his name to Cullen. His name would poison the air. It would poison the whole room where they were sitting. She didn’t want to put his name out there and spoil the goodness of Cullen’s presence. 

_Come on, Piper, just say it,_ she told herself impatiently. It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d spoken of this; Hawke already knew the story, after all. But for some reason, telling Cullen was so much harder than when she’d spoken of it to Hawke. When she’d told Hawke about this, they’d both been half-drunk in Isabela’s kitchen with the music blaring, and Piper had managed to laugh it all off, and they’d finished the night making all kinds of stupid jokes about the minuscule size of Peronn’s dick. But she somehow didn’t see this telling with Cullen going that way.

Cullen gently squeezed her knee again. “Tell me only what you want to,” he said softly. 

She lifted her eyes to his face. He looked so serious. More serious than she’d ever seen him before, but it wasn’t his usual lawyer-sternness. There was a softness to his expression, to the tilt of his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth, and as Piper met his steady gaze, she could feel the bitter taste becoming more mellow on her tongue, softening and swelling at the same time.

She opened her mouth. “His name was Peronn,” she said. 

_Peronn._ His name dissipated in the air, and for a moment, Piper felt awkward. 

But Cullen just nodded his head, a casual nod as though the name was as normal and innocuous as any other. 

She licked her lips, then gathered her courage to continue. “This guy Peronn, I was with him for the whole time I was in Ansburg. We… I lived with him and his friends and I… we… you know.” She winced slightly and scratched her head. Fuck, this was awkward. 

But Cullen just stroked her knee without speaking, so she went on. “I saved a lot of money while I was living there, since I wasn’t paying rent and we all kind of lived like squatters, even though they weren’t. I mean, maybe they were. They could’ve been, now that I think about it, and I wouldn’t have known, because I was stupid.”

Cullen frowned suddenly. “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged and smiled slightly. “I was stupid. I moved in with a bunch of strangers that I didn’t really know, so of course they… I mean, yeah, of course. What did I expect?” She rubbed one of her silver bracelets between her fingers. “If I’d been more careful, it wouldn’t have happened, so, uh…”

Cullen’s frown was deepening as Piper babbled on. She bit her lip and forced herself to breathe. _Just say it,_ she thought. 

She dragged her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. “I saved up enough to get my motorcycle. I was so fucking excited,” she said. “Peronn came with me to the bank, and I took all the money out because I wanted to pay in cash. And to celebrate, our friends took me out to a bar right after we’d gone to the bank.” She shot a quick glance at Cullen as she plucked at her bracelet. “You can probably see where this is going.”

He definitely could. She could see it in the slant of his eyebrows, but she went on anyway. “I had about thirty grand in my pocket. Thirty fuckin’ grand, and I went to a bar and got really drunk with my so-called friends.” 

She took another deep breath and said it all in a rush. “They jumped me in the alley behind the bar and beat the shit out of me and stole my cash.” She met Cullen’s eyes. “That’s what happened in Ansburg. That’s how I got my face all fucked up like this.” She waved dismissively at her scars, then dropped her gaze to her hands and scratched nervously at her bracelets. 

Cullen’s fingers were tight on her knee. He loosened his grip and shifted closer to her. “And Peronn?” he said quietly.

Piper laughed. She twisted her silver bangle around her wrist. “Oh, he was the mastermind. He basically admitted it to me. I don’t know when he started planning it, but he was the one behind the whole thing. Fucking asshole.” 

A sudden memory sprang into her brain – that hated memory that no amount of time seemed able to erase: the soft and condescending smile on Peronn’s face as he stroked her swollen cheek, then slapped her. And his smooth fucking voice wishing her _better luck next time, kid…_

Piper wrinkled her nose. Her eyes were burning. She looked away from Cullen and inhaled sharply through her nose, then laughed once more. “I just really wanted a motorcycle, you know?” she said. 

A traitorous tear ran down her face, and she quickly wiped it away. Then a sob burst from her throat. 

She slapped a hand over her mouth and squinched her face up. Mythal’s fucking ass, she did _not_ want to cry in front of Cullen. She didn’t want to be this sad pathetic girl who cried about being beaten up, she didn’t want this, she didn’t want to cry… 

Cullen pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin, and she completely lost it. Suddenly she was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe, and Cullen’s nice grey shirt was getting completely soaked by her disgusting tears and snot, and the sounds she was making – Creator’s fucking sakes, she sounded like a wounded animal. 

But Cullen’s arms were tight around her, and his body was solid and warm, and Piper was unable to stop the tsunami of tears. In complete and utter humiliation, she covered her face with her hands and buried her face against his shoulder and bawled. 

Cullen pulled her onto his lap and rocked her gently like the stupid baby that she was. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, and Piper kept on fucking crying until her face was raw and her stomach hurt and every breath she took was a painful hiccup of air. 

When her crying had slowed down to the occasional tear, Cullen finally spoke. “I am… so sorry, Piper. I truly can’t imagine.” 

She shrugged and self-consciously pulled her hair around her face. She didn’t want him to see her looking so gross. “It’s okay,” she said, in the strongest voice she could muster. “I learned my lesson at least. No big withdrawals. Not without a bodyguard, at least.” She managed a little chuckle.

Cullen continued to stroke her hair. “You are not stupid for trusting people,” he told her quietly. He ignored her skeptical little snort as he continued to talk. “If anything, you are evidence that people _can_ be good. That they can keep striving to be good, to see the good in the world even when they’re faced with such ugliness. Piper, you are the kind of person I always wanted to protect. I…” He sighed and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I wish there was something I could do for you to fix this.”

She shook her head and pulled away from him slightly. “No, no,” she insisted. “That’s not why I told you this.” Hawke had also suggested going to the police or a lawyer when Piper had first told her the tale, and Piper had refused then as well.

She shrugged. “I just want to put it behind me. Chalk it up to a bad night out and move on with my life, you know? I kind of hate that it’s haunted me this long already. I don’t want to let it ruin anything else.”

“I understand,” Cullen murmured. He gently stroked her cheek. “Thank you for telling me. This was incredibly difficult for you.” 

She smirked. “How could you tell?” she quipped feebly.

He huffed, a very faint sound of amusement, and Piper relaxed a little bit at the treasured sound. Then, finally, she looked him in the eye.

“I had to tell you,” she said. “You’re my boyfriend. You deserved to know.” 

To her surprise, his cheeks went pink. He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “O-of course,” he said. “I… well. Thank you for… for trusting me.” 

His face was steadily growing redder, and through her messy emotional morass, she felt a rising wave of amusement. “Are you blushing because I called you my boyfriend?” she said incredulously. 

He ducked his head, and Piper laughed – an actual, genuine laugh. “What is going on? Why are you so shy?” she asked.

He chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I suppose… I didn’t know what you – that is, if you – um…” 

Piper reached up and cupped his precious blushing face in her hands. “Cullen,” she said, “do you even need to ask? Of course you’re my boyfriend. I–” 

She stopped herself just in time. She loved him, of course she fucking loved him, but she’d only known him for about two months. Way too early to admit it yet. 

She twisted around on his lap so she was facing him, then hugged him hard. She pressed her face against his neck, inhaling his lovely scent of leather and spice, then sweetly kissed his ear. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered. “And I’m only a little bit sorry you didn’t get your work done.”

Cullen chuckled, and the sound of it pooled warmly in her chest. “Well, I have no regrets,” he murmured. 

Piper smiled. “Good,” she whispered. She relaxed into the safety and strength of his arms, and for a long, peaceful moment, they just held each other close in a mutual cocoon of shared affection and warmth. 

Eventually Cullen spoke. “Would you like to finish the movie?” he whispered. 

Piper nodded. “Yes. _You_ need to finish it. It’s really educational.” 

Cullen chuckled as Piper pulled away. “I take that to mean that some very violent things happen.” 

“Yep,” she said pertly. She slid off of his lap, and they cozily snuggled up once more with the laptop on Cullen’s thighs. 

Piper smiled to herself as he restarted the movie. But within ten minutes, her eyelids were growing heavy, weighed down by that peculiar kind of exhaustion that accompanied a major emotional release. 

But rather than feeling embarrassed or annoyed, Piper felt… light. Cleansed somehow, as though a small but omnipresent knot in her gut had been disentangled. 

She nestled her head more securely against Cullen’s chest and permitted her eyes to drift shut. Right before she slipped into sleep, her last thought was of her empty motorcycle savings account.

Maybe it was time to put something in it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piper Lavellan is the brainchild of the lovely [Schoute on Tumblr.](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) Follow her for some amazing Cullavellan (and FENHAWKE) art!!
> 
> I am [Pikapeppa on Tumblr,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) and it is my honour to write her. xo


	10. Luck: A Reprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut has arrived!!

Piper nervously tapped her booted feet on the steps of the courthouse. She listened idly to Isabela and Merrill’s chatting for a moment, then pulled out her phone and glanced at the time.

It was 10:20 a.m. Hawke and Cullen had been in the courthouse for over an hour already. 

She looked up at Isabela. “How long do these things usually take, d’you think?”

Isabela propped her fist on one luscious hip and grinned down at Piper, who was seated on the courthouse steps. “Why are you asking me? I’m a naughty girl, but I’m not that naughty.”

Piper smirked. “Well, that’s disappointing. I would have thought you’d been brought up on charges for public indecency or something at some point, at least.” 

Isabela gave a throaty chuckle. “Oh, sweets, I have. Just not in Kirkwall.” 

“Of course you have,” Varric deadpanned. He leaned casually against one of the courthouse’s imposing stone pillars and looked at Piper. “Depends on if they got called in on time, Rowdy. If the courts are backed up, we could be waiting until noon.”

“Noon?” Merrill exclaimed. She wrung her hands nervously. “That’s so long to wait! Poor Hawke. She’s not very good at waiting, is she?”

“She really isn’t,” Piper said. “Remember that time she ordered a Lyft and an Uber at the same time because she just wanted us to get into the one that came sooner?”

“And then they came at the same time!” Merrill giggled. “And she made us use them both–”

“–because she’d already paid,” Piper finished.

“Don’t forget the best part: that she put the wrong address into the Lyft, so it ended up on a different damned street,” Isabela said wryly. 

Piper laughed. “Oh yeah, that’s right. We ended up getting to the club even later than if she’d just waited for the one fucking car. Classic Hawke.”

Varric, Isabela, and Merrill laughed, and Piper grinned, but she couldn’t help but glance up at the courthouse doors yet again. If she was being perfectly honest, she was getting a little worried. Cullen had the utmost confidence that Hawke’s charges would be dropped, and Piper believed him, but she still wouldn’t feel completely at ease until Hawke and Cullen walked out the doors and gave the verdict. 

Merrill sighed and drummed her wine-red fingernails on her phone. “I wish we had a way to know what was going on. Anders has been asking for updates, and I don’t have any news to tell him.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow at Piper and Varric. “Why didn’t Hawke want us to come in with her? We’re allowed to go in. These court things are open to the public, aren’t they?”

Piper nodded; she’d asked Cullen the same thing, just to be sure. “Yeah, but Hawke didn’t want an audience for this,” she said.

Isabela snorted and shifted her weight to her other hip. “Since when does Hawke not want an audience?”

“Uh, since they’re deciding whether to stick her with murder charges or not?” Varric quipped. 

Isabela rolled her eyes and waved one elegant hand. “Oh please. The charges won’t stick.” She looked at Piper. “That man of yours has it sorted. If it seems like they’re losing the case, he can just open one button on his shirt. Show off that handsome chest of his.” She winked at Piper.

Piper grinned. “That’s what Hawke said too.”

Isabela shrugged and grinned. “There you go. Great minds think alike. Maybe _I_ should become a lawyer. Pop my top button every time I think I’m going to lose…” She tapped her chin mock-thoughtfully.

Varric raised one eyebrow. “As if you need the excuse to show your chest, Isabela.” 

Isabela grinned, then bent over slowly until she – and her ample bosom – were at Varric’s eye level. “As though you need an excuse to look, handsome,” she drawled. 

Varric smirked and shook his head, and Merrill giggled. Piper snickered, then glanced hopefully at the courthouse when the doors cracked open. 

Two stern-looking besuited women emerged. Disappointed, Piper forced herself to turn away, then looked up at Varric. “Hey, how is the research going for your sequel of _Swords and Shields_?” she asked. 

“Hey, keep your voice down,” Varric said. He shuffled a little closer to her and lowered his voice. “I’m trying to keep that one under my pen name.” 

Isabela pouted playfully at him. “What, the hardened crime novel author doesn’t want everyone knowing he secretly enjoys writing torrid sex scenes?” 

“Yeah, Varric, what’s to be ashamed of?” Piper asked. “I’ve been told the legal stuff you wrote was really accurate.”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “Really? Who said that?”

Piper shrugged and held her boss’s shrewd gaze. No way was she telling him that Cullen had read _Swords and Shields_ ; Cullen’s face would go up in flames if anyone other than Piper ever knew he’d read it. “Someone in Cullen’s office was talking about it,” she fibbed. She nudged Varric’s knee. “You should be proud of it.”

“Hmm. I’d be more proud if the sales were better,” Varric said. “I’m really not much of a romance writer.” 

Merrill patted his shoulder encouragingly. “Practice makes perfect! You can’t give up! I really liked _Swords and Shields._ Even Aveline said it wasn’t bad.”

Varric snorted. “Not exactly inspiring confidence there, Daisy. But… ah, we’ll see. I need some inspiration for the sequel.” He smiled at the three women. “If I ever decide to go back to it, you three will be the first to know.”

“Aww, thanks Varric,” Piper cooed.

“Yes, that’s so sweet of you!” Merrill chirped. She gave Varric a hug. 

“Sweet _and_ handsome. Such a catch,” Isabela purred. She playfully chucked Varric’s chin. 

Varric waved his hand magnanimously. “All right, ladies, that’s enough. Give a man some room to breathe.”

They all laughed. The cheerful conversation flowed forth as time ticked on, and as much as Piper enjoyed their friendly chat, she couldn’t completely let go of the hint of worry that scratched more insistently at her mind with every passing minute. 

Almost an hour later, the doors to the courthouse opened. Piper casually glanced up at the doors, and her heart leapt into her throat: Hawke and Cullen were finally stepping outside. 

She shot to her feet, and Merrill and Isabela also stood. “So?” Piper said eagerly. Her eyes darted anxiously from Hawke’s reddened eyes to Cullen’s stern face. “What happened?”

Cullen looked at Hawke and nodded encouragingly. Hawke shrugged and grinned. “They dropped the murder charges. No trial necessary,” she said. “I’m off the hook.” 

Piper clutched her face in relief. Merrill squealed in excitement, and Isabela whooped loudly, and they all flooded up the stairs toward her. 

Piper pulled Hawke into a rare impulsive hug. “Congratulations!” she exclaimed, then grunted as Merrill’s and Isabela’s arms surrounded them as well in a messy group hug. 

Hawke laughed – a loud, merry burst of amusement. “Oh, thank you, thank you. The miraculous Rynne Hawke narrowly dodges another disaster.” She smiled at Varric, who was standing beside Cullen with his arms folded and a huge grin on his face. “You should write a book about me, you know. I bet it would sell extremely well.” 

Varric chuckled. “I’ll think about it. Between keeping you and Rowdy off the bar and managing the finances at Athenril’s, I barely have time to write these days.” 

Hawke laughed again. Varric, Isabela and Merrill continued to chat happily with Hawke, but Piper’s eyes were drawn to Cullen. 

His eyebrows were creased in a slight frown, but he was smiling at Hawke and the others. As he met Piper’s eyes, his face relaxed until he was grinning. 

She grinned back at him. “Thank you,” she mouthed silently. 

His grin broadened further, and he shook his head dismissively. Then Isabela and Merrill released Piper and Hawke from their tight embrace. “We’re having a party to celebrate,” Isabela announced. “Saturday night. Yes?” She raised her eyebrows at Hawke. 

“Ooh, how fun!” Merrill chirped. “Let me just text Anders…” She pulled out her phone and began to type.

Hawke shrugged. “I never say no to a party,” she said happily. “As long as the boss gives me and Pipes the night off?” She batted her eyelashes winningly at Varric. 

Varric rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “I guess it’s a worthy cause. Maybe _I’ll_ even take the night off. Get Athenril to run the bar for the night.”

Isabela clapped her hands cheerfully, then sashayed over to Cullen and tapped his chest. “You have to come, Mr. Rutherford. You’ll be the guest of honour along with Hawke.”

Cullen’s smile fell, and he tugged his tie. “Oh. Er, that’s very kind, Isabela, but–”

“Come now, I’m not taking no for an answer,” Isabela insisted. “It will be a great party. I’ll have Josephine arrange the whole thing, and we’ll have dancing in every room of the house…”

Piper watched with a rush of fondness as Cullen’s expression grew more and more apprehensive. “I-I will have to check my schedule,” he hedged. “I am usually working on Saturday nights…” He shot Piper a _please-help-me_ sort of look. 

Piper bounced over and hooked her hand through Cullen’s elbow. “I’ll walk him through it,” she said confidently. She gave him an adoring look. “He’ll be there. He’ll even have fun.”

Cullen glanced at her pleadingly, then sighed. “All right. I suppose I will be there. I will trust Piper’s judgment that this will be, er, fun.” He gave Piper a wry little smile. 

“Fantastic,” Isabela announced. She grinned confidently at them all, then snapped her fingers. “A victory _and_ homecoming party, let’s not forget!” She raised her eyebrows curiously at Hawke. “When are you moving in again, sweet thing?”

“Ah, I hadn’t decided yet,” Hawke said airily. “Only half of my things are packed. You know how good I am at getting my shit organized.” 

Piper shot Hawke a swift sideways glance. Hawke tended to give an impression of being humorously scatterbrained and impulsive, but Piper knew the truth: in the aftermath of Malcolm’s death, with Leandra incapable of action and Carver obliviously out of the picture, Hawke was the only one managing her family’s finances and household responsibilities. 

Hawke met Piper’s eyes, and her smile slipped for a split second. Then she wrestled it back onto her face. “Listen, all of you, in the excitement of this criminal court-y business, I forgot how badly I need to piss.” She looked at Piper. “Come hold my purse for me?”

“Sure,” Piper said casually. She squeezed Cullen’s hand briefly, then followed Hawke back into the courthouse.

Hawke sighed happily as they walked through the elegant municipal building. “You know, I’ll almost miss this place,” she said. “It’s sort of fun being on the wrong side of the law. Everyone kind of gives you this look like you’re a total badass. I could get used to that.” She tilted her head. “Come to think of it, I rather have gotten used to it. Maybe I should actually do something illegal next time, instead of just being wrongly accused.”

Piper smirked. “And maybe you should keep your voice down while we’re, you know, surrounded by witnesses.”

“Ah, clever,” Hawke said. She tapped her nose and winked at Piper. “You’d make a great accomplice, you know. Actually, scratch that, you’d be the brains of the operation.”

Piper snickered and elbowed her. “I’m sure that would go over just great with my lawyer boyfriend.”

Hawke widened her eyes. “Please. That’s what would make it all the more romantic.” 

Piper laughed, and Hawke continued to crack incessant jokes until they found their way to the women’s washroom. Once they were in the washroom, Piper glanced briefly at the gaps under the doors to the three stalls; no one else was here.

She looked at Hawke, who was inspecting her makeup in the mirror and still talking. “... met this fellow who was about to go on trial for pissing on his boss’s storefront after his boss refused to pay him overtime,” she said. She carefully wiped away a trace of smudged eyeliner. “Now _that_ seems like the kind of case that you’d think Cullen would pick up pro bono, but he was all, ‘no, Hawke, I refuse’–”

“Hawke,” Piper said. 

Hawke glanced at Piper in the mirror. “Yeah, Pipes? What’s up?”

Piper leaned against the bathroom counter and folded her arms. “Are you okay?” she said seriously.

Hawke widened her eyes. “Of course. I just got let off the hook for my father’s death. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

_Because your mom’s going to have a fucking fit when she hears the news, and she’s going to have another fucking fit when you move out, and you’re stuck managing the whole household by yourself, and your dad is dead,_ Piper thought. 

She shrugged and awkwardly nibbled the inside of her cheek. “Just checking. You know, with all the… other stuff.” 

Hawke smiled, then turned away from the mirror to lean against the counter beside Piper. “Ah, you’re sweet, but I’m good. Really.” She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m good. Everything’s good. Feels like a weight’s been lifted, you know?” She smiled at Piper. 

Her eyes were shining. Piper’s heart gave a painful thump in her chest. 

Hawke dropped her gaze to her feet. “I’m good,” she repeated. “It’s all sorted out.” A drop of water fell onto the toe of Hawke’s boot, and Hawke hastily wiped her face. 

Piper swallowed the lump that was swelling in her throat. “Hey,” she said softly, and she gently patted Hawke’s back.

Hawke buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders jerked with a silent sob.

Piper froze for a split second, then wrapped her arm tightly around Hawke’s shoulders. Hawke curled toward her, and Piper simply held her while she cried in silence, her shoulders shaking with unspoken distress. 

A long, silent moment later, Hawke sniffled wetly, then wiped her nose on her hand and laughed. “Gross,” she said thickly, and she turned away from Piper and turned on the faucet. 

Piper pulled some paper towels from the dispenser while Hawke washed her face and hands. She handed the paper towel to Hawke, who smiled at her with puffy eyes. “Now you’re stuck with me while I put my face back on,” Hawke quipped as she patted her face dry.

_It’s not ‘stuck’ if I chose to be here with you,_ Piper thought. But that would be too sappy to say, even to her best friend. And if she said it, Hawke would probably start crying again, and then Piper might start crying… 

_Ugh,_ she thought. She leaned her elbows on the bathroom counter and grinned at Hawke, who was pulling a cosmetics kit from her purse. “You should have kept the smeared makeup,” Piper said. “You kind of looked like the Joker. Then we could have gone through the courthouse–”

Hawke gasped. “–and pretended we were going to rob the place or something? Oh Maker’s balls, that would have been so cool.” She pouted at Piper. “Remind me again why we don’t just fall to a life of crime? We’d be so good at it.”

Piper shrugged and watched with a smile as Hawke began expertly reapplying her foundation. “I don’t think they have my favourite brand of hair oil in jail,” she drawled. She ran a hand through her mass of silvery waves. “This would turn into a nightmare if it wasn’t controlled.”

Hawke raised one eyebrow. She reapplied her raspberry-red lipstick, then smirked. “Or we could use it as a weapon. Or hide weapons in it!”

Piper cackled at the thought. They continued to joke around about their imaginary criminal activities as they left the bathroom and made their way back to the exit.

When they reached the courthouse doors, Cullen was there. 

Piper’s heart gave an instinctive leap of pleasure at the sight of him. He smiled at her as they drew near, then turned to Hawke. “Take these,” he said to her, and he held out a small pack of tissues. 

Hawke took them with a quizzical look, and he grimaced apologetically. “I forgot to give them to you before, for which I apologize. I… These moments can be difficult, and I should have remembered earlier…”

He broke off as Hawke threw her arms around his neck in a hug. “You’re so fucking nice, Cullen,” she said. She released him and fondly patted his clean-shaven cheek. “How are you so fucking nice?”

He flushed and tugged at his tie. “Hmm, well. Thank you, Hawke, that’s very kind.” 

“No, _you_ are,” she insisted. She squeezed his arm, and her face was serious now. “Thank you, Cullen. Truly. I would have been rightly fucked if not for you. I… seriously, I don’t know how to thank you.” 

Cullen’s face continued to redden, and he shook his head. “Please. No thanks are necessary. It was the right thing. You… truly, it was the right thing to do.” He looked Hawke in the eye. 

She gazed back at him, then squinched her face up slightly and laughed. “Oh balls, you’re going to make me cry again. Enough of this.” She flapped her hands vaguely, then turned to Piper with a grin. “ _You_ can give him a proper thanks on my behalf. How’s that sound?”

Her tone was distinctly salacious, and Piper grinned. “That sounds like a great plan,” she said, and she and Hawke both looked at Cullen.

His pinkened cheeks turned tomato-red, and the two women cackled. Then Hawke gave Piper and Cullen one more quick hug each. “I’ll see you guys later, all right?” she said brightly. “I’ve got some party planning to do with the lovely Bels.” She winked at them, then strolled out of the courthouse with her usual confident aplomb. 

Piper smiled at Cullen, then stepped closer to him and rested her palms lightly on his abs. “You’re my hero,” she said, only half-jokingly.

He scoffed and gently squeezed her arm. “Hardly. It is my duty. Hawke’s case was very worthwhile.”

Piper shook her head and leaned into him. “I mean it,” she said seriously. “You’re… you didn’t have to do this. You had so much else going on, and this was an extra thing you didn’t need on your plate, and you still…” She shook her head and met his eyes – those deep, delicious chocolate-brown eyes of his. 

“You saved my best friend from a major criminal charge,” she said quietly. “You’re a fucking hero, Cullen.” 

He ducked his head shyly, and Piper grinned at the lingering redness of his cheeks. He was so modest and so good. He believed in the goodness of other people and in getting justice for those who did wrong, and simply standing close to him made her heart feel like it was going to pound its way out of her chest. 

_I love you,_ she thought. She’d been holding back on telling him, but she wanted so badly to say it, and the words were sitting right there on the tip of her tongue with all the sweetness of a ripe cherry… 

She opened her mouth to say it, but Cullen spoke first. “Would you come over to my place tonight?” he blurted.

Piper’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?” she said, slightly disoriented by her own feelings and by his abrupt invitation. 

He winced slightly. “That was graceless. I – well, now that this case is wrapped up, I was hoping…” He straightened and took Piper’s hands in his. “I am going to take a night off from work,” he announced. “And I would like to cook dinner for you.”

Piper stared at him, then smiled slowly. “That’s your idea of a night off? Cooking?”

He gave her a slightly chiding look. “Cooking for _you_ would be my idea of a night off. And, well… you have not seen my home, and… I would very much like to have you there.” His eyes were serious on her face. “You know it has never been much of a place of relaxation for me, but perhaps with you there…”

Piper’s heart swelled with a fresh bloom of pleasure, and she squeezed his hands. “I would love to come over,” she said. “That sounds amazing.”

The smile that lit his face was swift and brilliant. “Good,” he said happily. He nodded, then released her hands. “Good,” he said once more, and he ran a hand through his hair before gently ushering her toward the exit. “I should return to the office; I have a number of things still to do today, and I’ll need to go to the shops after work…” 

“Can I bring anything?” Piper asked as they stepped outside. “Wine or dessert?” 

Cullen shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “Bring only yourself. That is all I need.” He smiled at her as they made their way down the courthouse steps. 

She grinned at her feet, then coyly tugged her hair over the heated tip of her right ear. “All right,” she said. “I’ll see you tonight, then. What time?”

Cullen checked his watch. “Would six o’clock be too early?” 

_Noon wouldn’t be too early,_ Piper thought. She would honestly spend the entire day with him if she could. But alas, there was work he had to do, and she had a party to help plan and a best friend to check in on… 

She shook her head. “Six is perfect. I’ll see you then.” She rested her palms on his abs again and lifted herself onto her toes. 

He leaned down to meet her, and Piper drifted dreamily in the pleasure of his kiss and the warmth of his hand as it cradled her neck. He pulled away slowly, and Piper drank in the beauty of his scarred and smiling lips as he straightened up. 

“Have a good afternoon, Piper,” he murmured. He straightened his tie, then turned and walked away toward the parking lot. 

Piper smiled foolishly at his departing back, then popped in her earbuds and skipped off in the direction of home. There were so many things to look forward to: a party this weekend, and Hawke moving into Isabela’s condo with them as soon as she was able, and most exciting of all, a date at Cullen’s condo tonight. 

A leap of nervous excitement hopped in her belly. A quiet, private dinner at Cullen’s condo… It was the perfect romantic setting for everything they’d been putting off for the last two hectic weeks, and Piper grinned to herself as she strolled along the street. _Maybe I’ll be getting lucky tonight,_ she thought mischievously. 

And maybe, just maybe, she’d find the right moment tonight to tell him exactly how she felt. 

***************************

That night, at six o’clock on the dot, Piper knocked on the door to Cullen’s condo. She barely had time to study the tasteful carpeting and elegant soft-lit fixtures in the hallway before he opened the door. 

“Piper!” he exclaimed. He smiled at her and ushered her inside. “Come in, come in, please…”

He seemed happy but flustered, and Piper grinned; his hair was slightly out of place, with one wavy strand hanging down toward his eyebrow. 

He met her eyes, then ran a hand through his hair. “Forgive me,” he said. “I was tidying, and I lost track of time. I’m off schedule a bit…” 

Piper kicked off her boots and socks and followed him into his open-plan kitchen. “Don’t worry, Cullen,” she said soothingly. “It’s a night off, remember? You don’t need a schedule.”

He smirked at her. “That’s not quite true when you’re cooking a meal and want all the parts to be ready at the same time.” He waved at the marble-topped kitchen island, which boasted two elegant bar stools. “Please, have a seat, make yourself at home.” He turned to the fridge and began rifling around. 

She smiled fondly at his back. His nerves were pretty obvious. “Can I help with anything?” she asked. She drifted over to the kitchen island, then lifted herself onto the island counter itself instead of sitting on a stool. “I’m no great cook, but I know how to handle a knife.” 

“Thank you, but no,” Cullen said. “You’re here to relax, not to be put to work.” He turned back toward her, and his eyebrows jumped up for a moment when he saw her seated on the counter.

He smiled fondly, then showed her the bottles in his hands. “Would you care for a beer?”

She nodded. “Sure! Thanks.” She studied him surreptitiously as he opened the bottles. He was wearing his customary ‘casual’ clothing of a button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves and tucked into a pair of slacks, but to Piper’s surprise, his feet were bare.

She accepted the beer with a murmur of thanks, then pointed at his feet. “No socks,” she remarked. On the few occasions he’d come to Isabela’s condo, either to speak with Hawke or to visit Piper, he’d kept his shoes on. The last time he’d come over, Piper had gotten the distinct impression that taking his shoes off was a strangely big deal for him, and he’d still kept his socks on while they cuddled on her bed.

He huffed out a laugh. “Yes,” he said ruefully. “Strangely enough, I rather enjoy being barefoot. I used to run around barefoot quite often as a child. But… I don’t know. It has been quite some time since I…” He laughed in a self-deprecating way and rubbed the back of his neck. “It seems foolish, doesn’t it? Such a small thing, taking off one’s socks. But it just doesn’t seem… appropriate, somehow.”

Piper laughed and swung her own bare feet. “Well, I’m always barefoot whenever I can be. So what would do you call me?” she teased. 

Cullen grinned. He took a step closer and placed one hand on the counter beside her. “Piper, you are far from appropriate,” he said. “And that is more than fine with me.” 

His hand was right beside her bare thigh, less than a centimetre away. She could practically feel the heat of it on her skin. And his slightly growly tone of voice… 

There was intention there. Clear, heated intention, and a rush of heat bolted through Piper’s belly. _Getting lucky tonight, indeed,_ she thought excitedly.

She bit her lip, then met his eyes. “Good,” she said boldly. “Because I wasn’t planning on being appropriate tonight. At all.”

To her great pleasure and amusement, his cheeks went pink. He grinned at her, then straightened up and tugged his collar. “I… that is… well.” He cleared his throat, then shifted toward the kitchen island sink with a goofy smile. “That’s good,” he said, then cleared his throat once more and began washing a bowl filled with baby potatoes.

Piper grinned as well. She took a long drink of beer and savoured the cool bite as it flowed down her throat, then placed the bottle on the counter and swung her feet once more. “So what are we cooking tonight?” she asked. 

“Something quite simple, I’m afraid,” Cullen said. “Steak, roasted potatoes, and green salad.” He shot her an apologetic little look as he poured the water carefully from the bowl. “Next time I will make something a bit more elaborate.”

“No, no,” Piper protested, “that sounds great! And you’re making a sauce over there, right?” She nodded her chin at the stovetop behind him, where a small pot was simmering and giving off a tangy herbal scent.

He nodded. “Yes, béarnaise sauce for the steak. That is the only slightly finicky part of the meal.” He placed the bowl of potatoes on the draining board and turned toward the stove, then nodded in satisfaction and adjusted the heat. 

She admired him as he moved smoothly around the kitchen: drying the potatoes with a paper towel before taking out a baking tray, then laying out the potatoes on the tray before turning back to the stove and sliding the pot off the heat. His movements were brisk and purposeful and his expression was stern, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how much control he had over this environment.

_Probably the same way he controls a courtroom,_ she thought. And it was probably why he was so good at cooking too, if her current observations were anything to go by.

She sipped her beer and enjoyed the sight of her handsome man as he seasoned the raw steak and set up a double-boiler on the stove. Then he looked over at her and smiled. “You seem rather entertained,” he said.

Piper smirked and boldly raised her chin. “I am. My staring isn’t psyching you out, is it?”

“Not at all,” Cullen said. His smile was broad as he began to rub the baby potatoes with olive oil. “Have you never seen a lawyer cooking before?” 

She laughed. “Definitely not. It’s interesting, though. The difference between your cooking and the way that, say, my dad used to cook.”

Cullen’s hands went still for a moment, and he met her eyes. “Oh?” he said, and he continued rubbing the potatoes. “How so?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She hadn’t really planned on talking about her dad; she’d barely spoken of him to anyone since his death. In fact, Cullen was the one who had heard about him the most. 

She probed her own feelings for a moment. To her own surprise, she didn’t have the usual sharp pang of pain that accompanied his memories.

She took a deep breath. “Well, the Dalish have their own cooking traditions,” she said. “We eat the same food as humans most of the time. But on special occasions, we hunt our own game and prepare it with, like, Dalish prayers and stuff.” She shrugged a little sheepishly; she’d never paid that much attention to the Dalish prayers, aside from knowing that most of them were dedicated to Ghilan’nain, Andruil and Sylaise. “The whole hunting-and-blessing-and-preparing process is called _math’elvhenan_ – sorry for my shitty accent. But it means ‘food of the people’ in Elvish.” 

“That’s fascinating,” Cullen said. His eyebrows were lifted as he rubbed the potatoes with seasoned salt. “Did you use specific herbs or… cooking techniques, I suppose, as well?”

“Yeah,” Piper said. “But that’s the funny thing. My dad had a bunch of herbs he would use, but he didn’t have a specific recipe. Once he’d blessed the meat and skinned it and stuff, he would just kind of putter around the kitchen in our caravan and grab all our traditional herbs, stuff that I haven’t really seen in any human cuisines, and he’d just throw the herbs on the meat and mush it around with some halla butter and hope for the best.” She smiled to herself at the memory of her dad poking through the kitchen cupboards, wearing a stupid flowery apron that Piper had bought for him one time in Markham as a joke and humming absentmindedly to himself in a terribly out-of-tune voice that Piper had unfortunately inherited. 

Her throat ached slightly at the thought, but it was just a small ache – a bearable pain, and one that felt more like nostalgia than actual grief. She swallowed, then smiled at Cullen again. “The funny thing is that it always tasted good. It never tasted the same way twice, but it was always good.” She shook her head in amusement. “He had no structure at all. No rules, no timers, no recipes. It was wild.”

Cullen smiled as he washed his hands. Then he slowly came to stand in front of her and squeezed her bare knee. “He sounds like you,” Cullen said.

Piper smiled broadly at him, then dropped her eyes to his big warm hand on her leg. “I guess so,” she said. She shrugged. “It’s hard to say, you know? It’s weird sometimes to see yourself in a parent. But… yeah, maybe I am like him. Free and wild, that’s me. And my dad.” She laughed and tried to pretend she couldn’t hear the hint of a sob in her own voice. 

Cullen gently lifted her chin, and Piper gazed into his soft brown eyes. “Would you show me how to cook that way sometime?” he asked. 

Piper laughed again, with genuine amusement this time. “What, show you how to _not_ use a recipe?”

“Yes,” Cullen said. “My methods are… well, I am a fairly good cook, to tell the truth. But I am very regimented. There isn’t much space for experimentation here.” 

Piper tugged affectionately at his collar. “Well then, I’d be happy to show you how to chuck the recipe book out the window.”

Cullen’s smile broadened. “As long as you don’t mean literally. I would not put it past you.”

Piper threw her head back and laughed. Then Cullen’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. 

He frowned at the phone, and Piper released his collar. “You can pick it up, I don’t mind,” she said hurriedly. 

He scowled more deeply as the phone continued to vibrate, then sighed and shot her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Piper, I am expecting one personal call. After this, my attention is entirely yours.” He picked up the phone and lifted it to his ear. “Yes?” he barked.

Piper pulled a little _yikes_ face as he strode away down a hallway to the left. Then she slid off of the counter and wandered from the kitchen into the living room area. 

Cullen’s office taste seemed to extend to his condo; he had floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, and his furnishings were simple but elegant: shades of grey and blue with some white and black touches, all warmed up with a mahogany coffee table and shelving. 

Piper admired his flat-screen TV, which as almost as big as Isabela’s. _He’s probably barely used it, though_ , she thought with a pang of sympathy. Well, she would be happy to help him change that. 

She wandered over to the windows and sipped her beer as she admired the view. The sun was still casting its light across the early-evening sky, but the streetlights were already on, and the contrast of pinkish-orange sky with Kirkwall’s bright city lights was lovely. Piper would always consider herself more a nature girl than a city girl, but if she did have to pick a city to call her own, it would be Kirkwall.

She heard Cullen’s soft tread as he returned to the main area. “Piper, I apologize,” he said as he came over to join her. “I’ve turned off my phone for the rest of the night, I assure you.” 

She twined her fingers with his. His face was creased in a frown, and she had to admit a little curiosity about whom he’d been speaking to, but she wasn’t going to pry. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “ _I_ don’t even turn my phone off completely when we’re together.” She smirked.

“Well, I have,” he said firmly. “No more calls tonight.” Then his eyes widened, and he gripped his hair briefly. “I just realized… Maker’s breath, I’ve been remiss. I didn’t show you around the apartment. I am sorry–” 

She laughed at his discomfiture, then hugged him around the waist. “Cullen, it’s all right! I’ll see it eventually, it’s not a big deal.” 

“No, but I have been a poor host… oh, and the blasted béarnaise sauce…” He pursed his lips in annoyance, then dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and turned away toward the kitchen. “Please, Piper, feel free to look around. Truly, make yourself at home. I’ll rejoin you in a few minutes.” He went to the fridge and began taking out ingredients. 

Piper watched him with a pang of sympathy. He seemed more tense now since his phone call. She wandered back to the kitchen and hopped up on the counter once more. “Is everything all right?” she said gently. “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?”

He placed the ingredients on the counter, then sighed and gave her a rueful smile. “Your presence alone is helpful enough, I assure you,” he said. “But if you like, you could put on some music.” 

Piper widened her eyes comically. “Music? Here? In _your_ condo?” she teased. 

He smirked. “Very funny. Yes, Piper, music in my condo. Something relaxing, please,” he said pointedly. He opened the oven and slid the potatoes in. 

She snickered as she wandered over to his stereo system. “Fine. No Cullen’s Jams, then.” She grinned at his scoff of laughter, then plugged in her phone and brought up her music app. She selected one of Hawke’s tropical house playlists, and her eyebrows rose appreciatively as the smooth beats began to fill the apartment. 

She made her way back to the kitchen and sat on the counter once more. “You have this set up so the music goes into every room?”

“Yes,” he said. “Or it can be set to play only in certain rooms.” He shook his head ruefully. “Not that I have had much reason to use it.” 

He seemed more relaxed already; the crease between his eyebrows was gone, and his movements were less frantic as he began to whisk together what looked like egg yolks and the tangy contents of the pot from earlier. 

Piper sipped her beer and swayed happily to the sunny music while she watched Cullen’s strong hands at work. Then Cullen sighed. “I feel I should tell you who I was speaking to before,” he said. 

Piper grew still, then placed her bottle on the counter and sat forward slightly. “You don’t have to,” she said cautiously.

“No, I would like to,” he said. He glanced at her briefly, then resumed his whisking. “It was Samson on the phone.”

Piper stared at him. “Really?” 

Cullen nodded and kept whisking his sauce. “Yes. I… well. I thought about the conversations you and I have had, and things my sister has said before…” He was quiet for a moment as he moved the double boiler off of the heat, then poured a measure of melted butter into the saucepot while continuing to whisk. 

A couple of minutes later, he stopped whisking the sauce. He washed his hands, then came to stand in front of Piper and rested his hands on her knees. “I am escorting Samson to a Lyrium Anonymous meeting on Saturday morning,” he said. 

Piper’s jaw dropped. “You are?” she said. “That’s… Cullen, that’s really…”

“Unexpected?” he supplied wryly.

“No,” Piper blurted. She cupped his face in her hands. “It’s nice,” she said firmly. “I… you know what, I _shouldn’t_ be surprised. That’s really nice of you.” She tilted her head. “What made you change your mind?”

He twisted his lips ruefully. “I haven’t really changed my mind,” he admitted. “I am still angry at him. I still believe he did wrong by our justice system, and he let the firm down.” He shook his head slightly. “Not just the firm. He… he let _me_ down.”

Piper gently stroked his strong jaw. “So then… why did you decide to go to Lyrium Anon with him?” she asked.

He shrugged and idly stroked her thighs with his thumbs. “Samson is no good to anyone if he continues to be dependent on lyrium. He…” Cullen sighed. “He will always be an addict. Just as I will always be one. But if he can stop actively using it, he could find another way to be productive. Regain some dignity and purpose, perhaps.” He shrugged and met Piper’s eyes. “It is the right thing to do.”

Piper gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. He looked so serious, and the conversation they were having was… yes, it was serious. But that feeling was swelling in her chest again, a rising wave of adoration and admiration that was making her feel warm and full from the inside out, and the heated feel of his hands on her thighs wasn’t helping her concentration. 

She stroked the line of his jaw, and her errant thumb drifted over his gorgeous lower lip. When his lips parted slightly with a brief intake of breath, Piper couldn’t help herself. 

She bent forward and kissed him. It was an eager crash of a kiss with his lower lip captured between her own, and when Cullen shifted closer to stand between her legs, she gave a tiny excited gasp. 

His hand, his big strong hand… _fuck,_ his hand was sliding up her thigh toward the edge of her shorts, and his other hand was playing across her waistband and the bare skin of her hip, and Piper slid her fingers into his hair to pull him closer as her other hand scrabbled on the counter for balance–

_SMASH._ She jumped and pulled away from him at the distinctive crash of glass on tile, and Cullen grunted in surprise. 

“Maker’s breath,” he cursed. He glared down at the floor, and Piper looked as well: her beer bottle had shattered on the kitchen tile. 

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, Cullen, I shouldn’t have put it so close to the–”

He pulled her hand away from her mouth and kissed her hard. He dragged her closer to the edge of the counter with one firm hand on her bottom, and Piper whimpered shamelessly into his mouth as the bulge between his legs rode against the vee of her thighs. His fingers were firm around her wrist, and his other hand was holding her pelvis tight against his, and she could feel her nipples pearling beneath the fabric of her t-shirt… 

She pressed her chest toward him, suddenly desperate for him to touch her, to touch any part of his body to the sensitive peaks of her breasts. When his thumb drifted over her left breast, she moaned out loud. 

She broke away from his delicious lips. “Cullen,” she begged breathlessly. She arched into his hand and pulled at his collar. “Please…”

He panted for breath and stared into her eyes, and Piper stared back at him just as intensely. Then he pulled her off the counter and into his arms. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck for balance as he carried her the long way around the counter to avoid the broken glass, then they were moving swiftly down the hall and into his bedroom. In the fading light of evening that glowed through the frosted floor-to-ceiling windows, Piper gleaned a swift impression of crisp navy sheets and an elegant mahogany bedframe before Cullen crawled onto the bed and laid her on her back. 

He kneeled between her legs, and Piper bit her lip as his thumbs slid over her ribs, then teasingly over her nipples, and then his hands were smoothing their way up her arms and stretching her hands overhead and – _fuck, oh fuck,_ he was holding her wrists down on the mattress and looming over her with his big hard body.

Piper arched shamelessly toward him. She’d wanted this for so long, and they were here together, and if she had to wait another minute for his touch, she was sure she was going to scream. “Cullen, I want you to fuck me,” she blurted.

He stopped for a split second, then smirked at her. “That must be what you meant by ‘inappropriate’,” he said. 

His tone was teasing and warm, and Piper grinned back at him. She wrestled one of her hands from his grip, then reached down and molded her palm over the bulge in his slacks.

His smug little smirk instantly melted into a look of pure desperation. Piper lifted her chin and gently licked his lower lip. “How’s this for inappropriate?” she whispered, and she stroked her hand over the length of his cock. 

He dropped his head and pushed his pelvis toward her hand. “P-Piper,” he groaned. 

She continued to coyly pet his cock through his trousers. “Yeah?” she said innocently. 

His other hand tightened on her wrist. Then he turned his head slightly and kissed her breast through her t-shirt. 

Piper gasped fitfully. He was nuzzling her breast, but her nipples were hidden beneath the stupid fabric, and she wanted him so fucking badly… 

Then, through the soft tropical house music that was playing through the condo, Piper heard the distinct sound of a kitchen timer going off.

Cullen froze, then growled in frustration, and the feral sound his aggravation only served to heighten Piper’s want. When Cullen pushed himself away from her, she whined and flopped back on his bed. “Cullen,” she begged. 

“I know,” he panted. He leaned over her once more and quickly kissed her lips. “I know, Piper. Just… I’ll take everything off the heat, and then you will have my undivided attention.” He hurried out of the bedroom without waiting for her response. 

She twisted in frustration on the bed for a moment. She was so ready for him that even the smooth feeling of his sheets beneath her back was more than she could stand. Finally she sat up on the bed and turned on his bedside lamp, then settled herself on her knees to wait.

A very long, agonizing minute later, Cullen came back to the bedroom. “All right,” he said. “I am–” 

Piper pulled her shirt off with one swift motion and threw it beside the bed. “Do I have your undivided attention now?” she asked. 

His jaw dropped, and his eyes dropped to her bare and hardened nipples, and Piper grinned triumphantly. Then he swiftly moved toward her and kneeled on the bed. 

He reached for her, but Piper stopped him before he could touch. “Ah-ah,” she said playfully. She plucked at his shirt. “Take this off. Fair’s fair, counsellor.” 

He stared at her for a loaded second, then smiled and quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. “Is this your idea of justice?”

“Exactly,” she said. His skin appeared in tantalizing glimpses with each undone button, and Piper watched avidly until he shucked his shirt. Then she immediately reached for his belt. 

Cullen grabbed her hands, then tilted her chin up with one hand. “Piper,” he said pleadingly, “I… Maker’s breath, please, let me look at you. I have wanted this for a long time…” 

His words were soft, and a burst of tenderness mellowed her desire. She forced herself to relax back on her knees. “Me too,” she confessed. She gazed into the softness of his eyes, her breath catching in her throat as his hand slid around to her nape. “Cullen, I really…” She trailed off as he leaned close, then placed a very gentle kiss on her lips. 

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t be bothered. She was too busy savouring the feel of his gentle lips as they pressed sweetly against her mouth, then the corner of her lips, then her scarred cheekbone…

And then he kissed her ear, and Piper couldn’t help it. She winced and cringed slightly. 

Cullen instantly pulled away. He stroked her neck with his thumb. “Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly. 

_Stupid Piper,_ she thought in annoyance. _Stupid ears ruining things._ But now that he was asking, she had no choice but to answer.

She sighed, then rolled her eyes and waved at her ear. “I don’t… my ears are dumb,” she said bluntly. “They’re big and stupid and I don’t really like people touching them or looking at them. Sorry I’m so awkward.” She dropped her eyes to her lap and picked at her braided bracelet. 

Cullen was quiet for a moment. Then he tipped her chin up once more, and Piper was forced to look him in the eye.

His expression was stern, but his gaze was heated. “Piper, you… your ears are lovely,” he said. 

She snorted inelegantly, but Cullen shook his head. “I am serious. I… Everything about you is lovely. I will not touch your ears if you don’t want me to, but you should know that I think they’re beautiful.” He released her chin and stroked her cheekbone. “Your ears and your scars, your hair, these tattoos that I haven’t seen before…” His fingers drifted over the delicate ink on her sternum and beneath her breasts, and Piper dragged in a tiny gasp of a breath at his gentle touch. 

He lifted his hand back to her neck once more. “Piper, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I count myself extremely fortunate that I have the privilege of looking at you.” 

She swallowed hard. There was an inconvenient lump in her throat, and it was difficult to look him in the eye, but he was so gorgeous, and the words he’d said were just so… 

She inhaled carefully, then met his eye. She reached up and grasped his wrist, and finally she said the words she’d been wanting to tell him all day long. 

“I love you,” she said. “You know that, right?”

A huge, beautiful smile broke across his face. “I love you, too,” he said. Then he kissed her once more. 

Piper shuffled closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His skin was so warm, and his muscles were firm and comforting beneath her arms, and as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her firmly, Piper realized something with complete and utter clarity: Cullen’s arms were the safest place in the world, and that she would never want anyone else’s arms or kisses or words for the rest of her life. 

She floated blissfully in his kiss and the dizzying realization of her own devotion. Then Cullen’s lips moved across her cheekbone once more, a sweet and careful trail of kisses to her temple…

She held her breath, but Cullen didn’t touch her ear. Instead, he gently turned her head to the side, then brushed her hair away from her neck and lowered his lips to the tender patch of skin just behind her ear. 

She gave a tiny gasp. His lips were close to her ear but not touching it, and the place that he was kissing was really… it was her neck, really, and Creators, if there was anything that ever got her really riled up, it was being kissed on the neck–

_Oh fuck,_ and that was his tongue tracing along the spot behind her ear. Piper whimpered and tilted her head to give him better access, and soon his lips were moving down her neck and painting a trail of heat and _want_ that was sinking beneath her skin to pound between her legs. 

She clenched her fingers against his pecs as his teeth grazed her collarbone. Then she trailed her fingers down his chest toward his waistband, and his rough gasp of breath only served to make her more eager still. 

She fumbled at his belt buckle, but her focus swiftly slipped as he swept his thumb beneath her nipple. She just barely managed to get his belt undone, then he swiftly wrapped his arm around her waist and laid her back on the bed. 

Piper gasped and arched her back like a bow. Cullen’s lips, his tongue, the careful edge of his teeth: they were playing across her hardened nipple and giving her all the sensation that she’d wanted so badly. His hand was carefully palming her other breast, and all Piper could do was twist her hips and cry out in pleasure as he pulled at her nipple with his lovely scarred lips.

Then his fingers were on the button of her denim shorts. He kissed her sternum and opened her fly, then slid lower on the bed while he pulled her shorts down over her lifted hips. 

Cullen tossed her clothes on the floor, and Piper shamelessly spread her knees and looked him straight in the eye. “You want me?” she asked boldly. 

She knew he did. His chest was rising and falling with his own eagerness, and she could see the clear outline of his cock through his slacks. His bold stare fell from her face to the obvious desire between her legs, and Piper watched with satisfaction as he swallowed hard. 

He looked her in the eye once more. “More than anything,” he rasped. Then he lowered his face between her legs and kissed her. 

She moaned at the blissful press of his lips between her legs, then cried out as he slicked his tongue over her clit. “Fuck,” she gasped. “Cullen, I…” 

He lifted his face briefly. “Is this all right?” he asked. 

She raised her hips pleadingly. “ _Yes,_ ” she blurted. “Oh gods, yes, please–” She trailed off with a wordless broken whimper as he dropped his lips between her legs once more. 

She lifted her hips slightly, then fell back on the bed in utter bliss. He was the perfect degree of gentle and firm, delivering hot wet kisses with his lips and tongue in tandem, and with every slick stroke of his tongue that grazed her clit and every sweep of his lips along her sensitive folds, she could feel her rapture building, unfolding from the juncture of her thighs and reaching down toward her thighs, her calves, up through her chest… 

Cullen lapped sweetly at her clit, and Piper shivered, then came apart completely with a desperate cry. She slammed her head back on the mattress and clutched convulsively at her throat as the pleasure poured over her, thrumming through her throat and down to her toes. 

A long, breathless, blissful moment later, she dropped her hips to the bed and dragged in a breath. She forced her eyes open and lifted herself on her elbows to look down at him.

He was poised between her legs, and his eyes were on her face. “Was that all right?” he asked. 

A big, foolish grin stretched across her face. She threw her head back and laughed, then sat up and reached for him. “Cullen, get the fuck up here,” she said. 

He smiled as she hooked her hand around his neck. Piper pulled him close and kissed him, savouring the sweetness of her own pleasure on his lips, and this time when she reached for his fly, he didn’t resist. 

Without breaking from his lips, she popped the button and dragged down his zipper, then pushed his trousers away from his hips. She sat up on her knees, moving boldly and aggressively closer to him until he was forced to sit back. His eyes were wide and his lips parted with excitement, and Piper grinned wickedly at him as she straddled his knees and shoved his trousers away. 

She placed her hand on his shoulder and grabbed his cock, and he groaned loudly. “Is _this_ all right?” she asked teasingly. 

His fingers scrabbled over her hip, then grasped her waist. “Yes,” he gasped. “Piper, please…”

She pressed her hips down and stroked her wetness over his cock, and his fingers bit into her waist for a brief moment before relaxing to stroke her breast. She pressed her chest into his palm, and he lifted his hips to meet her, and soon they were both gasping with unrestrained want as she spread her heat across the length of him–

_Shit._ Piper froze for a second, and at the same moment, Cullen went still. She looked at him, and they both spoke at the same time. 

“Cullen, do you have–”

“In the bedside table drawer, there are condoms–”

She grinned at him. “Clever boy,” she drawled, then swiftly dismounted and darted over to his bedside table. She grabbed the unopened box of condoms and eagerly tore into it, then grabbed a condom and ripped it open while climbing back onto his body. 

He chuckled breathlessly as she rolled the condom onto his length. “Patience, Piper,” he panted. “There’s no need to rush–” 

She sank onto his length, and they both cried out in pleasure as he filled her up. She pressed her forehead to his and gasped for air, then kissed him hard as they both grew accustomed to the feeling of fullness. 

Then Piper leaned away and clasped his face in her hands. “I love you, Cullen,” she said harshly. “That’s my reason for rushing. I just…” She lifted her hips, and Cullen gasped, and she sank down onto his hips again with a moan.

She panted and undulated against him, and he wrapped one arm tight around her waist while supporting himself with the other, and Piper shamelessly savoured the driving hardness of his cock for a second before trying to speak again. 

“I love you a lot, and I just – want to be with you – _ah!_ – and I really…” She cried out as he thrust into her hard. “You make me happy, and I – I just really want to make you happy,” she whimpered. 

Cullen’s eager bucking slowed, and Piper opened her eyes as he stroked her cheek. “Piper, you make me happy every day,” he said softly. “The sound of your voice and your texts and… Everything you do makes me happy.” 

She beamed at him, then lifted her hips. “Even when I text while walking alone at night?” she breathed. She sank onto his cock once more.

He groaned in ecstasy, then tried to frown at her. “I thought you didn’t do that anymore.”

“Not when I’m texting _you_ ,” she said playfully. She rolled against his cock once more, pulling another groan from his throat. “What about when I stop by your office wearing my most super-profane t-shirts?” 

He grinned at her briefly, then gasped as she slammed her hips down against him. “Yes,” he blurted. “Maker’s breath, yes–”

She lifted her hips once more and hovered over the tip of his cock. “What about when I try to pick fights with asshole men at the Hanged Men who are twice my size?”

Cullen _tsk_ ed, then drew a shaky breath as she started to ride him in a careful rhythm. “I thought – Maker’s breath – the bouncers were supposed to stop you…” He moaned as she rolled against him with increasing speed. 

“The bouncers stop the men,” Piper said cheekily. “They can’t stop me.” She clasped his neck in her hands and licked his mouth, then began fucking him hard and fast.

He gasped and bit her nipple, and she arched viciously toward him as their hips met in a furious crash of passion. Cullen sank his fingers into her hair and dragged his tongue along her neck, and Piper cried out and fucked him even faster, and when Cullen’s grip tightened in her hair, she dug her nails into his shoulders and rode him until he released a guttural cry of climax. 

He shuddered and dropped his forehead to her chest, and Piper wrapped her arms around his sweat-laced shoulders. His one palm was trembling on her back, and Piper clutched him tightly until his shaking grew still.

He slid his arm more firmly around her waist, and they breathed together in a contented silence for a long, lovely minute. Then Cullen lifted his face to look at her. “I must ask you something,” he said. 

She raised one eyebrow. His words seemed serious, but the corners of his lips were slightly lifted in a smirk. 

“Sure,” she said. She brushed a sweaty strand of hair back from his face. “What is it?” 

He tilted his head. “Did I see… Is there a tattoo on your bottom?” 

She grinned at him. “Oh, my ass tattoo? Yes! Want to see it?” She slid off of his body, careful not to take the condom with her, then kneeled in front of him and pointed coyly at her right ass cheek, where a five-leafed clover sat about five inches to the left and three inches below her right hipbone. 

Cullen stared at it for a moment, then lifted his eyes to her face. “Why?” he said.

She burst into laughter at his bemused tone, then stretched out on her side on his bed. “I really suck at card games, and I lost a bet,” she said loftily. “But in the end, I’m glad. It’s my luck, see?”

He removed the condom and carefully deposited it in the trash, then rejoined her on the bed and stretched out beside her. “You’ll have to explain that to me, I’m afraid.” 

She smiled and ran a hand through his adorably wavy hair. “There’s not much to explain, really. Some people think they have a destiny, and that gives them purpose or whatever. But I like to think I make my own luck, you know?” She rolled onto her belly and rested her cheek on her folded arms. “Sometimes that luck is shitty, and it means I get robbed by a bunch of jerks in Ansburg. But that shitty luck brought me here, and I met Hawke. And because of Hawke, I met you.” She smiled at him. “I make my own luck. And every time I shower, I get to stare at my ass in the mirror and remember how lucky I am.” 

Cullen was quiet for a moment. He gently tucked her hair behind her ear, and his smile was as soft as his eyes. He shuffled closer to her and slid his hand along the length of her back and down to her tattooed bum. “In that case,” he said, “I think your clover tattoo is wonderful.” 

He brushed her forehead with his lips, and Piper smiled. As she languished in the warmth of his arms and the lovely spicy scent of his skin, she thought about her ass tattoo and her scars, and her empty motorcycle account and her pounding heart that was overflowing with love, so much love that it felt like it was thrumming through her veins like an unstoppable tide. 

As Piper languished in Cullen’s arms and his trust and his pure, reciprocal love, she knew that she was the luckiest girl in Kirkwall.

*********************

Turn your magic on to me, he'd say  
Everything you want's a dream away  
Under this pressure, under this weight  
We are diamonds

I feel my heart beating  
I feel my heart underneath my skin  
I feel my heart beating  
Oh, you make me feel  
Like I'm alive again

[”Adventure Of A Lifetime” by Koni ft. Gabriella](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCk0j8pTSgE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piper Lavellan is the creation of the lovely and talented [@schoute on Tumblr.](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) Follow her for beautiful art of Pipes and Cullen (and also of my Rynne Hawke and Fenris)!
> 
> I am [Pikapeppa on Tumblr - ](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) here at Schoute's service. xoxo


	11. Epilogue

**Two years later…**

Piper swung her leg over the arm of her chair and shrugged. “So yeah, that’s pretty much the whole story of how Cullen and I got together.” She took a sip from her glass of water, then placed it back on Varric’s desk and gave him a quizzical look. “But I mean, you were around when I met him! This isn’t news to you.”

Varric shifted his feet from his desk back down to the floor. “Well, I was _around_ , yeah,” he said. “But I didn’t see the whole meet-cute here at the bar. I didn’t really witness the rest of it like Hawke did.” 

“Yeah, well.” Piper smirked at Varric and twisted her braid around the end of her finger. “Now you know. Even the dumb whiny in-my-head stuff.” She rolled her eyes a little self-consciously. When Varric had asked her to tell him about her relationship with Cullen – _research for Swords and Shields 2_ , he’d said – Piper had laughed out loud and instantly agreed. She’d sort of figured that she would make herself and Cullen sound like the ultimate entertaining opposites-attract, wild-child/exasperated-white-collar-lawyer couple so that Varric would definitely use their story in his book. She hadn’t expected to tell Varric the truth.

She also hadn’t really expected to get into the nitty-gritty of her initial ambivalence about Cullen, or the backstory about Peronn, or even to gush about Cullen as much as she had. But that was the thing with Varric: when he asked questions, he really listened to the answers, and before you knew it, you were spilling your guts to him without even meaning to while just sat there and nodded and _listened._

At least she hadn’t actually told him about the sex. _That_ was for Piper and Cullen alone.

She bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile, then swung her legs idly. “So! When you put us in your book as the charming heroine and the dashing love interest, you’re gonna give us some of the royalties, right? I think at least ten percent is fair.”

Varric chuckled and slipped on his glasses, then opened up his laptop. “Nice try. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll use your story in my book.”

Piper gasped in mock offense. “What are you talking about? How could you not? We’re adorable. Have you met us?”

“I dunno, Rowdy,” Varric said casually as he started to type. “Single main characters are more appealing than ones who are already taken. I might use Hawke as my protagonist instead.” 

Piper scoffed. “You can’t use Hawke as your protagonist. She’s too pretty. Nobody will like her.”

Varric raised an eyebrow at her over the top of his glasses. “Are you fishing for compliments from your boss?”

Piper cackled. “Not a chance. I get all the compliments I need from Cullen.”

Varric smiled at her – a genuine, broad smile. “That’s good,” he said. “I’m happy for you, kid.” 

Piper’s smile softened. “Yeah,” she said softly. “He’s a good one. I think I’ll keep him.”

Varric’s smile widened, and he and Piper simply sat in a friendly silence for a moment. Then his cell phone rang. 

Piper shifted her legs off of the chair and stood up as Varric answered the phone. “Varric here. Yeah? Okay. I’ll meet you out front.” He tapped at his phone, then stood up. “The new bouncer’s here,” he told her. “I’ll bring him in to meet you and Hawke.” 

“I hope he’s not too handsome,” Piper quipped as she and Varric stepped out of his office. “Or Hawke will be all over him.” 

“Don’t kid yourself, Pipes,” Hawke sang out from behind the bar. “I’ll be all over our new bouncer whether he’s handsome or not. I’m an equal-opportunity kind of flirt.” She leaned over the bar and fluttered her eyelashes at Piper and Varric. “You guys are finished your long secret chat about how great I am? Because I’m ready to hear all the nice things you said.” 

Piper laughed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we were talking about,” she said. “We said how you’re the second-best bartender in the Hanged Man–” 

“Hey!” Hawke protested. 

“–and how good you are at keeping a captive audience when you’re caterwauling on the karaoke,” Varric said dryly.

Hawke pointed accusingly at him. “Come on now. It’s only a _captive_ audience if they don’t want to be here.”

“– and how good you are at squeezing extra-big tips out of even the most sour-looking customers,” Piper said genuinely. 

Hawke preened and playfully fanned herself. “Well, that much is true.” She hopped up over the bar and slung her arm affectionately around Piper’s neck. 

“And now you’re going to be wiping down the bar again, since you just had your dirty boots on it,” Varric said. He raised one eyebrow at Hawke. 

She groaned. “But I just wiped it… all right, _fine._ Pipes, can you start unpacking the stupid… I mean, the amazing, fantastic wine?” she self-corrected, as Varric raised his eyebrow even higher. She shot him a winning smile. 

Varric shook his head with a smirk and headed for the exit. As he pushed open the door of the Hanged Man and stepped outside, Piper caught a glimpse of a slim male figure in a black hoodie and back combat boots before the door swung shut. 

_Kind of on the thin side for a bouncer,_ she thought idly. She shrugged and turned to Hawke with a smirk. “All right,” she said. “Boss is cracking the whip. I’ll be in the back. Holler if you need me.” 

“Will do,” Hawke said, and she wandered over to the sink to grab the cleaning solution for the bar. Piper, meanwhile, headed for the storeroom. 

As she stepped into the storeroom, her phone chirped to hail the arrival of a text. 

**5:15pm - I am heading home early tonight. Wonders will never cease.**   
**5:15pm - Would you like me to bring you dinner at the bar?**

She smiled at Cullen’s thoughtfulness, then tapped out a response. 

_5:15pm - only if it won’t be too much trouble!_   
_5:15pm - you know i’d rather eat your cookign than the food here any day_   
_5:15pm - don’t tell Varric i said that though XD_

**5:15pm - Your secret is safe with me.**   
**5:15pm - I will see you tonight, then. 10:30 as usual?**

_5:16pm - you know it!_

She grinned as she clicked the screen to sleep. As she slid her phone into her pocket, her fingers grazed the edge of a coin that was a little larger than quarter: Cullen’s sobriety coin, which he’d given to her over a year ago. 

Cullen’s triumph over his lyrium addiction was another piece of the story she’d kept to herself in telling Varric about the Samson debacle. But she would never forget what Cullen had said to her when he’d given her his coin.

They’d been preparing to watch a movie in his apartment, and he’d been emptying his pockets as he always did before sitting on the couch. But on this particular night, he stopped and looked at his handful of change instead of placing it in the dish on the coffee table. 

Piper arranged a blanket over her legs, then looked up at him curiously. “What’s up?” she asked.

He picked the brass coin from his palm and studied it thoughtfully. “This coin… it used to be my strength,” he said. “This was what I looked to when I was stressed or angry, and I needed to remember my purpose.” He sat on the couch beside her and ran his thumb over the face of the coin.

Then he took Piper’s hand in his. He placed the sobriety coin in her palm and curled her fingers over it, then looked her in the eye. “Piper, I – I feel that this coin belongs with you now. I would… very much like for you to have it. Will you carry it for me?” 

“Of course,” she said instantly. Tears were swelling at the back of her throat, but she was way too happy to let them get anywhere near her eyes. She clutched the precious coin close to her chest, then shifted into her knees and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course I’ll keep this for you,” she whispered. “I’ll take good care of it.” 

He smiled at her, and they settled together in their usual snuggly position to watch some Netflix. But Piper couldn’t concentrate; all she could think about was everything that this coin meant.

And now, as she stood in the storeroom of the Hanged Man, she fondly thought about the coin again. 

This coin in her pocket represented more than Cullen’s strength. It was his commitment and his faith, and his trust in Piper to keep it all in kind. And it was his promise to her that he would give her all those things in turn. 

It represented the promise of love that they whispered almost every night, whether in his bed together or through the phone as she took a break from work. 

It was everything Piper had never thought to want, but now could not imagine living without. 

She brushed her fingers over the coin once more, then popped in her earphones and started up a playlist while she unpacked the wine. Some time later, Varric poked his head in the door. 

“New bouncer is here,” he said in a rueful tone. “Hawke made me come and fetch you while she flirts with him. Surprise, surprise.”

Piper grinned while she put away two more bottles of wine. “Remind me again who’s the boss around here?”

He snorted. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” He wandered away to his office. 

Piper smirked as she dusted off her hands. Before she left the storeroom, though, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. 

She brought up her messaging app, and on impulse, she sent Cullen another text.

_5:41pm - i love you_   
_5:41pm - just y’know in case you were wondering or whatever_

She imagined his blush: that charming blush that still lit his cheeks when she complimented him or expressed her love, even after two whole years. Less than a minute later, she got his response.

**5:42pm - I love you too, Piper. Very much.**   
**5:42pm - 10:30 will not come quickly enough.**

She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Such a silver tongue, counsellor,” she whispered to herself. She could happily spend the rest of her life listening to the sweet words from that silver tongue of his. 

And with a little luck, that’s exactly what Piper would do. 

She smiled at his texts for another moment. Then she tucked her phone into her pocket, wiped the packing-crate dust off of her hands, and left the storeroom to meet Varric’s new member of staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and the end of this fic leads straight into [Damned Spot,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17710157/chapters/41780090) which tells the story of how Rynne Hawke and Fenris get together! 
> 
> To everyone who read along with this story and expressed your love and your kudos: thank you so much, you guys?? Schoute and I are _COMPLETE TRASH_ for this AU, and both of us have plans for further Piper/Cullen installments. We'll post any further chapters in [this fic, which is our miscellaneous Piperford dumpster fire of love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17800730/chapters/41996960) for both the canon DA universe and this modern AU. 
> 
> Come hang out with us on Tumblr! [Here be Schoute,](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) and [here be I,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) your faithful writer. xoxo


End file.
